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«  A.SH1  N  I 


Trinted  by  H.C.  a 


OBITUAEY   ADDBESSES 


OCCASION  OF  THE  DEATH 


HON.  HENRY  CLAY, 

A  SENATOR  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  FROM  THE  STATE  OF 
KENTUCKY, 


DELIVERED    IN    THE 


of  ii|e  Hijife9  §fyfes, 


JUNE  30,  1852, 


FUNERAL  SERMON  OF  THE  REV.  C.  M.  BUTLER, 

CHAPLAIN  OP  THE  SENATE, 

PREACHED  IN  THE  SENATE,  JULY  1,  1852. 


?Hif)ie5  bij  olrdelr  of  f foe  §ei]^ie  ^5  Jfoifse  of  fypfegepfyfibeg. 


.. 


WASHINGTON: 
PRINTED   BY  ROBERT  ARMSTRONG. 

1852. 


SENATE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 
July  2,  1852. 


Mr.  Mangum  submitted  the  following  resolution,  which 
was  considered,  by  unanimous  consent,  and  agreed  to : — 

Resolved,  That  the  Committee  of  Arrangements 
cause  to  be  published  in  a  pamphlet  form,  and  in 
such  manner  as  may  seem  to  them  appropriate,  for 
the  use  of  the  Senate,  ten  thousand  copies  of  the 
addresses  made  by  the  members  of  the  Senate,  and 
members  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  together 
with  the  discourse  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Butler,  upon  the 
occasion  of  the  death  of  the  Hon.  Henry  Clay. 

Attest, 

ASBURY  DlCKINS, 

Secretary. 


OBITUARY  ADDRESSES. 


SENATE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 
Wednesday,  June  30,  1852. 

After  the  reading  of  the  Journal,  Mr.  Underwood  rose, 
and  addressed  the  Senate*,  as  follows : 

Mr.  President:  I  rise  to  announce  the  death  of 
my  colleague,  Mr.  Clay.  He  died  at  his  lodgings, 
in  the  National  Hotel  of  this  city,  at  seventeen 
minutes  past  eleven  o'clock  yesterday  morning,  in 
the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age.  He  expired  with 
perfect  composure,  and  without  a  groan  or  struggle. 

By  his  death  our  country  has  lost  one  of  its  most 
eminent  citizens  and  statesmen;  and,  I  think,  its 
greatest  genius.  I  shall  not  detain  the  Senate  by 
narrating  the  transactions  of  his  long  and  useful  life. 
His  distinguished  services  as  a  statesman  are  insepa- 
rably connected  with  the  history  of  his  country. 
As  Kepresentative  and  Speaker  in  the  other  House 
of  Congress,  as  Senator  in  this  body,  as  Secretary  of 
State,  and  as  Envoy  abroad,  he  has,  in  all  these 
positions,  exhibited  a  wisdom  and  patriotism  which 
have  made  a  deep  and  lasting  impression  upon  the 
grateful  hearts  of  his   countrymen.     His  thoughts 


and  his  actions  have  already  been  published  to  the 
world  in  written  biography ;  in  Congressional  de- 
bates and  reports;  in  the  Journals  of  the  two  Houses; 
and  in  the  pages  of  American  history.  They  have 
been  commemorated  by  monuments  erected  on  the 
wayside.  They  have  been  engraven  on  medals  of 
gold.  Their  memory  will  survive  the  monuments 
of  marble  and  the  medals  of  gold ;  for  these  are  ef- 
faced and  decay  by  the  friction  of  ages.  But  the 
thoughts  and  actions  of  my  late  colleague  have  be- 
come identified  with  the  immortality  of  the  human 
mind,  and  will  pass  down  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion as  a  portion  of  our  national  inheritance,  incapa- 
ble of  annihilation  so  long  as  genius  has  an  admirer, 
or  liberty  a  friend. 

Mr.  President,  the  character  of  Henry  Clay  was 
formed  and  developed  by  the  influence  of  our  free 
institutions.  His  physical,  mental,  and  moral  facul- 
ties were  the  gift  of  God.  That  they  were  greatly 
superior  to  the  faculties  allotted  to  most  men  cannot 
be  questioned.  They  were  not  cultivated,  improved, 
and  directed  by  a  liberal  or  collegiate  education. 
His  respectable  parents  were  not  wealthy,  and  had 
not  the  means  of  maintaining  their  children  at  col- 
lege. Moreover,  his  father  died  when  he  was  a  boy. 
At  an  early  period,  Mr.  Clay  was  thrown  upon  his 
own  resources,  without  patrimony.  He  grew  up  in 
a  clerk's  office  in  Kichmond,  Virginia.  He  there 
studied  law.     He  emigrated  from  his  native  State 


and  settled  in  Lexington,  Kentucky,  where  he  com- 
menced the  practice  of  his  profession  before  he  was 
of  full  age. 

The  road  to  wealth,  to  honour,  and  fame,  was 
open  before  him.  Under  our  Constitution  and  laws 
he  might  freely  employ  his  great  faculties  unob- 
structed by  legal  impediments,  and  unaided  by  ex- 
clusive privileges.  Very  soon  Mr.  Clay  made  a 
deep  and  favourable  impression  upon  the  people 
among  whom  he  began  his  career.  The  excellence 
of  his  natural  faculties  was  soon  displayed.  Neces- 
sity stimulated  him  in  their  cultivation.  His  as- 
siduity, skill,  and  fidelity  in  professional  engage- 
ments secured  public  confidence.  He  was  elected 
member  of  the  Legislature  of  Kentucky,  in  which 
body  he  served  several  sessions  prior  to  1806.  In 
that  year  he  was  elevated  to  a  seat  in  the  Senate  of 
the  United  States. 

At  the  bar  and  in  the  General  Assembly  of  Ken- 
tucky, Mr.  Clay  first  manifested  those  high  qualities 
as  a  public  speaker  which  have  secured  to  him  so 
much  popular  applause  and  admiration.  His  physi- 
cal and  mental  organization  eminently  qualified  him 
to  become  a  great  and  impressive  orator.  His  per- 
son was  tall,  slender,  and  commanding.  His  tem- 
perament ardent,  fearless,  and  full  of  hope.  His 
countenance  clear,  expressive,  and  variable — indicat- 
ing the  emotion  which  predominated  at  the  moment 
with  exact   similitude.     His  voice,  cultivated   and 


8 

modulated  in  harmony  with  the  sentiment  he  de- 
sired to  express,  fell  upon  the  ear  like  the  melody 
of  enrapturing  music.  His  eye  beaming  with  intelli- 
gence and  flashing  with  coruscations  of  genius.  His 
gestures  and  attitudes  graceful  and  natural.  These 
personal  advantages  won  the  prepossessions  of  an 
audience,  even  before  his  intellectual  powers  began 
to  move  his  hearers ;  and  when  his  strong  common 
sense,  his  profound  reasoning,  his  clear  conceptions 
of  his  subject  in  all  its  bearings,  and  his  striking  and 
beautiful  illustrations,  united  with  such  personal 
qualities,  were  brought  to  the  discussion  of  any 
question,  his  audience  was  enraptured,  convinced, 
and  led  by  the  orator  as  if  enchanted  by  the  lyre  of 
Orpheus. 

No  man  was  ever  blessed  by  his  Creator  with 
faculties  of  a  higher  order  of  excellence  than  those 
given  to  Mr.  Clay.  In  the  quickness  of  his  per- 
ceptions, and  the  rapidity  with  which  his  con- 
clusions were  formed,  he  had  few  equals  and  no 
superior.  He  was  eminently  endowed  with  a  nice 
discriminating  taste  for  order,  symmetry,  and  beauty. 
He  detected  in  a  moment  every  thing  out  of  place 
or  deficient  in  his  room,  upon  his  farm,  in  his  own 
or  the  dress  of  others.  He  was  a  skilful  judge  of 
the  form  and  qualities  of  his  domestic  animals,  which 
he  delighted  to  raise  on  his  farm.  I  could  give  you 
instances  of  the  quickness  and  minuteness  of  his 
keen  faculty  of  observation  which  never  overlooked 


any  thing.  A  want  of  neatness  and  order  was  offen- 
sive to  him.  He  was  particular  and  neat  in  his 
handwriting,  and  his  apparel.  A  slovenly  blot  or 
negligence  of  any  sort  met  his  condemnation;  while 
he  was  so  organized  that  he  attended  to,  and  arranged 
little  things  to  please  and  gratify  his  natural  love 
for  neatness,  order,  and  beauty,  his  great  intellectual 
faculties  grasped  all  the  subjects  of  jurisprudence 
and  politics  with  a  facility  amounting  almost  to  in- 
tuition. As  a  lawyer,  he  stood  at  the  head  of  his 
profession.  As  a  statesman,  his  stand  at  the  head 
of  the  Kepublican  Whig  party  for  nearly  half  a 
century,  establishes  his  title  to  pre-eminence  among 
his  illustrious  associates. 

Mr.  Clay  was  deeply  versed  in  all  the  springs  of 
human  action.  He  had  read  and  studied  biography 
and  history.  Shortly  after  I  left  college,  I  had 
occasion  to  call  on  him  in  Frankfort,  where  he  was 
attending  court,  and  well  I  remember  to  have  found 
him  with  Plutarch's  Lives  in  his  hands.  No  one 
better  than  he  knew  how  to  avail  himself  of  human 
motives,  and  all  the  circumstances  which  surrounded 
a  subject,  or  could  present  them  with  more  force  and 
skill  to  accomplish  the  object  of  an  argument. 

Mr.  Clay,  throughout  his  public  career,  was  in- 
fluenced by  the  loftiest  patriotism.  Confident  in  the 
truth  of  his  convictions  and  the  purity  of  his  pur- 
poses, he  was  ardent,  sometimes  impetuous,  in  the 
pursuit  of  objects  which  he  believed  essential  to  the 


10 

general  welfare.  Those  who  stood  in  his  way  were 
thrown  aside  without  fear  or  ceremony.  He  never 
affected  a  courtier's  deference  to  men  or  opinions 
which  he  thought  hostile  to  the  best  interests  of  his 
country;  and  hence  he  may  have  wounded  the 
vanity  of  those  who  thought  themselves  of  conse- 
quence. It  is  certain,  whatever  the  cause,  that  at 
one  period  of  his  life  Mr.  Clay  might  have  been 
referred  to  as  proof  that  there  is  more  truth  than 
fiction  in  those  profound  lines  of  the  poet — 

"He  who  ascends  the  mountain  top  shall  find 

Its  loftiest  peaks  most  wrapt  in  clouds  and  snow ; 
He  who  surpasses  or  subdues  mankind, 

Must  look  down  on  the  hate  of  those  below : 

Though  far  above  the  sun  of  glory  glow, 
And  far  beneath  the  earth  and  ocean  spread. 

Round  him  are  icy  rocks,  and  loudly  blow 
Contending  tempests  on  his  naked  head, 
And  thus  reward  the  toils  which  to  those  summits  led." 

Calumny  and  detraction  emptied  their  vials  upon 
him.  But  how  glorious  the  change!  He  outlived 
malice  and  envy.  He  lived  long  enough  to  prove  to 
the  world  that  his  ambition  was  no  more  than  a 
holy  aspiration  to  make  his  country  the  greatest, 
most  powerful,  and  best  governed  on  the  earth.  If 
he  desired  its  highest  office,  it  was  because  the 
greater  power  and  influence  resulting  from  such 
elevation  would  enable  him  to  do  more  than  he 
otherwise  could  for  the  progress  and  advancement — 
first  of  his  own  countrymen,  then  of  his  whole  race. 
His  sympathies  embraced  all.     The  African  slave, 


11 

the  Creole  of  Spanish  America,  the  children  of  reno- 
vated classic  Greece — all  families  of  men,  without 
respect  to  color  or  clime,  found  in  his  expanded 
bosom  and  comprehensive  intellect  a  friend  of  their 
elevation  and  amelioration.  Such  ambition  as  that, 
is  God's  implantation  in  the  human  heart  for  raising 
the  down-trodden  nations  of  the  earth,  and  fitting 
them  for  regenerated  existence  in  politics,  in  morals, 
and  religion. 

Bold  and  determined  as  Mr.  Clay  was  in  all  his 
actions,  he  was,  nevertheless,  conciliating.  He  did 
not  obstinately  adhere  #to  things  impracticable.  If 
he  could  not  accomplish  the  best,  he  contented  him- 
self with  the  nighest  approach  to  it.  He  has  been 
the  great  compromiser  of  those  political  agitations 
and  opposing  opinions  which  have,  in  the  belief  of 
thousands,  at  different  times,  endangered  the  perpe- 
tuity of  our  Federal  Government  and  Union. 

Mr.  Clay  was  no  less  remarkable  for  his  admirable 
social  qualities  than  for  his  intellectual  abilities.  As 
a  companion,  he  was  the  delight  of  his  friends;  and 
no  man  ever  had  better  or  truer.  They  have  loved 
him  from  the  beginning,  and  loved  him  to  the  last. 
His  hospitable  mansion  at  Ashland  was  always  open 
to  their  reception.  No  guest  ever  thence  departed 
without  feeling  happier  for  his  visit.  But,  alas! 
that  hospitable  mansion  has  already  been  converted 
into  a  house  of  mourning;  already  has  intelligence 
of  his  death  passed  with  electric  velocity  to  that  aged 


12 

and  now  widowed  lady  who,  for  more  than  fifty 
years,  bore  to  him  all  the  endearing  relations  of  wife, 
and  whose  feeble  condition  prevented  her  from  join- 
ing him  in  this  city,  and  soothing  the  anguish  of 
life's  last  scene  by  those  endearing  attentions  which 
no  one  can  give  so  well  as  woman  and  a  wife.  May 
God  infuse  into  her  heart  and  mind  the  Christian 
spirit  of  submission  under  her  bereavement!  It 
cannot  be  long  before  she  may  expect  a  reunion  in 
Heaven.  A  nation  condoles  with  her  and  her  chil- 
dren on  account  of  their  irreparable  loss. 

Mr.  Clay,  from  the  nature  of  his  disease,  declined 
very  gradually.  He  bore  his  protracted  sufferings 
with  great  equanimity  and  patience.  On  one  occa- 
sion, he  said  to  me,  that  when  death  was  inevitable 
and  must  soon  come,  and  when  the  sufferer  was 
ready  to  die,  he  did  not  perceive  the  wisdom  of 
praying  to  be  "  delivered  from  sudden  death."  He 
thought  under  such  circumstances  the  sooner  suffer- 
ing was  relieved  by  death  the  better.  He  desired 
the  termination  of  his  own  sufferings,  while  he 
acknowledged  the  duty  of  patiently  waiting  and 
abiding  the  pleasure  of  God.  Mr.  Clay  frequently 
spoke  to  me  of  his  hope  of  eternal  life,  founded  upon 
the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ  as  a  Saviour;  who,  as  he 
remarked,  came  into  the  world  to  bring  "life  and 
immortality  to  light."  He  was  a  member  of  the 
Episcopalian  Church.  In  one  of  our  conversations 
he  told   me,  that   as   his   hour  of  dissolution  ap- 


13 

proached,  he  found  that  his  affections  were  concen- 
trating more  and  more  upon  his  domestic  circle — his 
wife  and  children.  In  my  daily  visits  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  asking  me  to  detail  to  him  the  transactions 
of  the  Senate.  This  I  did,  and  he  manifested  much 
interest  in  passing  occurrences.  His  inquiries  were 
less  frequent  as  his  end  approached.  For  the  week 
preceding  his  death  he  seemed  to  be  altogether  ab- 
stracted from  the  concerns  of  the  world.  When  he 
became  so  low  that  he  could  not  converse  without 
being  fatigued,  he  frequently  requested  those  around 
him  to  converse.  He  would  then  quietly  listen. 
He  retained  his  mental  faculties  in  great  perfection. 
His  memory  remained  perfect.  He  frequently  men- 
tioned events  and  conversations  of  recent  occurrence, 
showing  that  he  had  a  perfect  recollection  of  what 
was  said  and  done.  He  said  to  me  that  he  was 
grateful  to  God  for  continuing  to  him  the  blessing  of 
reason,  which  enabled  him  to  contemplate  and  reflect 
on  his  situation.  He  manifested  during  his  confine- 
ment the  same  characteristics  which  marked  his 
conduct  through  the  vigour  of  his  life.  He  was  ex- 
ceedingly averse  to  give  his  friends  "trouble"  as  he 
called  it.  Some  time  before  he  knew  it,  we  com- 
menced waiting  through  the  night  in  an  adjoining 
room.  He  said  to  me,  after  passing  a  painful  day, 
"Perhaps  some  one  had  better  remain  all  night  in 
the  parlour."  From  this  time  he  knew  some  friend 
was  constantly  at  hand  ready  to  attend  to  him. 


14 

Mr.  President,  the  majestic  form  of  Mr.  Clay  will 
no  more  grace  these  Halls.  No  more  shall  we  hear 
that  voice  which  has  so  often  thrilled  and  charmed 
the  assembled  representatives  of  the  American  peo- 
ple. No  more  shall  we  see  that  waving  hand  and 
eye  of  light,  as  when  he  was  engaged  unfolding  his 
policy  in  regard  to  the  varied  interests  of  our  grow- 
ing and  mighty  republican  empire.  His  voice  is 
silent  on  earth  for  ever.  The  darkness  of  death  has 
obscured  the  lustre  of  his  eye.  But  the  memory  of 
his  services — not  only  to  his  beloved  Kentucky,  not 
only  to  the  United  States,  but  for  the  cause  of 
human  freedom  and  progress  throughout  the  world 
— will  live  through  future  ages,  as  a  bright  example, 
stimulating  and  encouraging  his  own  countrymen 
and  the  people  of  all  nations  in  their  patriotic  devo- 
tions to  country  and  humanity. 

With  Christians,  there  is  yet  a  nobler  and  a 
higher  thought  in  regard  to  Mr.  Clay.  They  will 
think  of  him  in  connection  with  eternity.  They 
will  contemplate  his  immortal  spirit  occupying  its 
true  relative  magnitude  among  the  moral  stars  of 
glory  in  the  presence  of  God.  They  will  think  of 
him  as  having  fulfilled  the  duties  allotted  to  him  on 
earth,  having  been  regenerated  by  Divine  grace,  and 
having  passed  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  and  reached  an  everlasting  and  happy  home 
in  that  "  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens."  • 


15 

On  Sunday  morning  last,  I  was  watching  alone  at 
Mr.  Clay's  bedside.  For  the  last  hour  he  had  been 
unusually  quiet,  and  I  thought  he  was  sleeping.  In 
that,  however,  he  told  me  I  was  mistaken.  Opening 
his  eyes  and  looking  at  me,  he  said,  "  Mr.  Under- 
wood, there  may  be  some  question  where  my  re- 
mains shall  be  buried.  Some  persons  may  designate 
Frankfort.  I  wish  to  repose  at  the  cemetery  in 
Lexington,  where  many  of  my  friends  and  connec- 
tions are  buried."  My  reply  was,  "  I  will  endeavour 
to  have  your  wish  executed." 

I  now  ask  the  Senate  to  have  his  corpse  trans- 
mitted to  Lexington,  Kentucky,  for  sepulture.  Let 
him  sleep  with  the  dead  of  that  city,  in  and  near 
which  his  home  has  been  for  more  than  half  a  cen- 
tury. For  the  people  of  Lexington,  the  living  and 
the  dead,  he  manifested,  by  the  statement  made  to 
me,  a  pure  and  holy  sympathy,  and  a  desire  to 
cleave  unto  them,  as  strong  as  that  which  bound 
Ruth  to  Naomi.  It  was  his  anxious  wish  to  return 
to  them  before  he  died,  and  to  realize  what  the 
daughter  of  Moab  so  strongly  felt  and  beautifully 
expressed:  "Thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and 
thy  God  my  God.  Where  thou  diest  will  I  die,  and 
there  will  I  be  buried." 

It  is  fit  that  the  tomb  of  Henry  Clay  should  be  in 
the  city  of  Lexington.  In  our  Revolution,  liberty's 
first  libation-blood  was  poured  out  in  a  town  of  that 
name  in  Massachusetts.     On  hearing  it,  the  pioneers 


16 

of  Kentucky  consecrated  the  name,  and  applied  it 
to  the  place  where  Mr.  Clay  desired  to  be  buried. 
The  associations  connected  with  the  name  harmonize 
with  his  character;  and  the  monument  erected  to 
his  memory  at  the  spot  selected  by  him  will  be  visited 
by  the  votaries  of  genius  and  liberty  with  that 
reverence  which  is  inspired  at  the  tomb  of  Wash- 
ington. Upon  that  monument  let  his  epitaph  be 
engraved. 

Mr.  President,  I  have  availed  myself  of  Doctor 
Johnson's  paraphrase  of  the  epitaph  on  Thomas 
Hanmer,  with  a  few  alterations  and  additions,  to 
express  in  borrowed  verse  my  admiration  for  the 
life  and  character  of  Mr.  Clay,  and  with  this  heart- 
tribute  to  the  memory  of  my  illustrious  colleague  I 
conclude  my  remarks : 


Born  when  Freedom  her  stripes  and  stars  unfurl'd, 
When  Revolution  shook  the  startled  world — 
Heroes  and  sages  taught  his  brilliant  mind 
To  know  and  love  the  rights  of  all  mankind. 
"In  life's  first  bloom  his  public  toils  began, 
At  once  commenced  the  Senator  and  man: 
In  business  dext'rous,  weighty  in  debate, 
Near  fifty  years  he  labour' d  for  the  State. 
In  every  speech  persuasive  wisdom  flow'd, 
In  every  act  refulgent  virtue  glow'd ; 
Suspended  faction  ceased  from  rage  and  strife, 
To  hear  his  eloquence  and  praise  his  life. 
Resistless  merit  fixed  the  Members'  choice, 
Who  hail'd  him  Speaker  with  united  voice." 
His  talents  ripening  with  advancing  years — 
His  wisdom  growing  with  his  public  cares — 
A  chosen  envoy,  war's  dark  horrors  cease, 
And  tides  of  carnage  turn  to  streams  of  peace. 


17 


Conflicting  principles,  internal  strife, 
Tariff  and  slavery,  disunion  rife, 
All  are  compromised  by  his  great  hand, 
And  beams  of  joy  illuminate  the  land. 
Patriot,  Christian,  Husband,  Father,  Friend, 
Thy  work  of  life  achieved  a  glorious  end ! 

I  offer  the  following  resolutions : — 

Resolved,  That  a  committee  of  six  be  appointed  by  the 
President  of  the  Senate,  to  take  order  for  superintending 
the  funeral  of  Henry  Clay,  late  a  member  of  this  body, 
which  will  take  place  to-morrow  at  twelve  o'clock,  M.,  and 
that  the  Senate  will  attend  the  same. 

Resolved,  That  the  members  of  the  Senate,  from  a  sincere 
desire  of  showing  every  mark  of  respect  to  the  memory  of 
the  deceased,  will  go  into  mourning  for  one  month  by  the 
usual  mode  of  wearing  crape  on  the  left  arm. 

Resolved,  As  a  further  mark  of  respect  entertained  by  the 
Senate  for  the  memory  of  Henry  Clay,  and  his  long  and 
distinguished  services  to  his  country,  that  his  remains,  in 
pursuance  of  the  known  wishes  of  his  family,  be  removed  to 
the  place  of  sepulture  selected  by  himself  at  Lexington,  in 
Kentucky,  in  charge  of  the  Sergeant  at  Arms,  and  attended 
by  a  committee  of  six  Senators,  to  be  appointed  by  the 
President  of  the  Senate,  who  shall  have  full  power  to  carry 
this  resolution  into  effect. 

Mr.  Cass. 

Mr.  President  :  Again  has  an  impressive  warn- 
ing come  to  teach  us,  that  in  the  midst  of  life  we 
are  in  death.  The  ordinary  labours  of  this  Hall  are 
suspended,  and   its  contentions  hushed,  before  the 


18 

power  of  Him,  who  says  to  the  storm  of  human 
passion,  as  He  said  of  old  to  the  waves  of  Galilee, 
Peace,  be  still.  The  lessons  of  His  providence, 
severe  as  they  may  be,  often  become  merciful  dispen- 
sations, like  that  which  is  now  spreading  sorrow 
through  the  land,  and  which  is  reminding  us  that  we 
have  higher  duties  to  fulfil,  and  graver  responsibili- 
ties to  encounter,  than  those  that  meet  us  here,  when 
we  lay  our  hands  upon  His  holy  word,  and  invoke 
His  holy  name,  promising  to  be  faithful  to  that  Con- 
stitution, which  He  gave  us  in  His  mercy,  and  will 
withdraw  only  in  the  hour  of  our  blindness  and  dis- 
obedience, and  of  His  own  wrath. 

Another  great  man  has  fallen  in  our  land,  ripe  in- 
deed in  years  and  in  honours,  but  never  dearer  to  the 
American  people  than  when  called  from  the  theatre 
of  his  services  and  renown  to  that  final  bar  where 
the  lofty  and  the  lowly  must  all  meet  at  last. 

I  do  not  rise,  upon  this  mournful  occasion,  to  in- 
dulge in  the  language  of  panegyric.  My  regard  for 
the  memory  of  the  dead,  and  for  the  obligations  of 
the  living,  would  equally  rebuke  such  a  course. 
The  severity  of  truth  is,  at  once,  our  proper  duty  and 
our  best  consolation.  Born  during  the  revolution- 
ary struggle,  our  deceased  associate  was  one  of  the 
few  remaining  public  men  who  connect  the  present 
generation  with  the  actors  in  the  trying  scenes  of  that 
eventful  period,  and  whose  names  and  deeds  will  soon 


19 

be  known  only  in  the  history  of  their  country.  He 
was  another  illustration,  and  a  noble  one,  too,  of  the 
glorious  equality  of  our  institutions,  which  freely  offer 
all  their  rewards  to  all  who  justly  seek  them ;  for  he 
was  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune,  having  made 
his  way  in  life  by  self-exertion ;  and  he  was  an  early 
adventurer  in  the  great  forest  of  the  West,  then  a 
world  of  primitive  vegetation,  but  now  the  abode  of 
intelligence  and  religion,  of  prosperity  and  civiliza- 
tion. But  he  possessed  that  intellectual  superiority 
which  overcomes  surrounding  obstacles,  and  which 
local  seclusion  cannot  long  withhold  from  general 
knowledge  and  appreciation. 

It  is  almost  half  a  century  since  he  passed  through 
Chillicothe,  then  the  seat  of  government  of  Ohio, 
where  I  was  a  member  of  the  Legislature,  on  his 
way  to  take  his  place  in  this  very  body,  which  is 
now  listening  to  this  reminiscence,  and  to  a  feeble 
tribute  of  regard  from  one  who  then  saw  him  for  the 
first  time,  but  who  can  never  forget  the  impression 
he  produced  by  the  charms  of  his  conversation,  the 
frankness  of  his  manner,  and  the  high  qualities  with 
which  he  was  endowed.  Since  then  he  has  belonged 
to  his  country,  and  has  taken  a  part,  and  a  promi- 
nent part,  both  in  peace  and  war,  in  all  the  great 
questions  affecting  her  interest  and  her  honour ;  and 
though  it  has  been  my  fortune  often  to  differ  from 
him,  yet  I  believe  he  was  as  pure  a  patriot  as  ever 


20 

participated  in  the  councils  of  a  nation,  anxious  for 
the  public  good,  and  seeking  to  promote  it,  during  all 
the  vicissitudes  of  a  long  and  eventful  life.  That  he 
exercised  a  powerful  influence,  within  the  sphere  of 
his  action,  through  the  whole  country,  indeed,  we  all 
feel  and  know;  and  we  know,  too,  the  eminent  endow- 
ments to  which  he  owed  this  high  distinction.  Frank 
and  fearless  in  the  expression  of  his  opinion,  and  in 
the  performance  of  his  duties,  with  rare  powers  of 
eloquence,  which  never  failed  to  rivet  the  attention 
of  his  auditory,  and  which  always  commanded  ad- 
miration, even  when  they  did  not  carry  conviction 
— prompt  in  decision,  and  firm  in  action,  and  with  a 
vigorous  intellect,  trained  in  the  contests  of  a  stir- 
ring life,  and  strengthened  by  enlarged  experience 
and  observation,  joined  withal  to  an  ardent  love  of 
country,  and  to  great  purity  of  purpose, — these  were 
the  elements  of  his  power  and  success ;  and  we  dwell 
upon  them  with  mournful  gratification  now,  when 
we  shall  soon  follow  him  to  the  cold  and  silent  tomb, 
where  we  shall  commit  "earth  to  earth,  ashes  to 
ashes,  dust  to  dust,"  but  with  the  blessed  conviction 
of  the  truth  of  that  Divine  revelation  which  teaches 
us  that  there  is  life  and  hope  beyond  the  narrow 
house,  where  we  shall  leave  him  alone  to  the 
mercy  of  his  God  and  ours. 

He  has  passed  beyond  the  reach  of  human  praise 
or  censure;  but  the  judgment  of  his  contemporaries 


21 

has  preceded  and  pronounced  the  judgment  of  his- 
tory, and  his  name  and  fame  will  shed  lustre  upon 
his  country,  and  will  be  proudly  cherished  in  the 
hearts  of  his  countrymen  for  long  ages  to  come.  Yes, 
they  will  be  cherished  and  freshly  remembered,  when 
these  marble  columns,  that  surround  us,  so  often  the 
witnesses  of  his  triumph — but  in  a  few  brief  hours, 
when  his  mortal  frame,  despoiled  of  the  immortal 
spirit,  shall  rest  under  this  dome  for  the  last  time, 
to  become  the  witnesses  of  his  defeat  in  that  final 
contest,  where  the  mightiest  fall  before  the  great  de- 
stroyer— when  these  marble  columns  shall  them- 
selves have  fallen,  like  all  the  works  of  man, 
leaving  their  broken  fragments  to  tell  the  story  of 
former  magnificence,  amid  the  very  ruins  which 
announce  decay  and  desolation. 

I  was  often  with  him  during  his  last  illness,  when 
the  world  and  the  things  of  the  world  were  fast  fad- 
ing away  before  him.  He  knew  that  the  silver  cord 
was  almost  loosened,  and  that  the  golden  bowl  was 
breaking  at  the  fountain ;  but  he  was  resigned  to  the 
will  of  Providence,  feeling  that  He  who  gave  has  the 
right  to  take  away,  in  His  own  good  time  and  man- 
ner. After  his  duty  to  his  Creator,  and  his  anxiety 
for  his  family,  his  first  care  was  for  his  country,  and 
his  first  wish  for  the  preservation  and  perpetuation  of 
the  Constitution  and  the  Union — dear  to  him  in  the 
hour  of  death,  as  they  had  ever  been  in  the  vigour  of 


22 

life.  Of  that  Constitution  and  Union,  whose  de- 
fence in  the  last  and  greatest  crisis  of  their  peril,  had 
called  forth  all  his  energies,  and  stimulated  those 
memorable  and  powerful  exertions,  which  he  who 
witnessed  can  never  forget,  and  which  no  doubt 
hastened  the  final  catastrophe  a  nation  now  deplores, 
with  a  sincerity  and  unanimity,  not  less  honourable  to 
themselves,  than  to  the  memory  of  the  object  of  their 
affections.  And  when  we  shall  enter  that  narrow 
valley,  through  which  he  has  passed  before  us,  and 
which  leads  to  the  judgment-seat  of  God,  may  we  be 
able  to  say,  through  faith  in  his  Son,  our  Saviour, 
and  in  the  beautiful  language  of  the  hymn  of  the 
dying  Christian — dying,  but  ever  living,  and  trium- 
phant— 

"  The  world  recedes,  it  disappears — 
Heaven  opens  on  my  eyes !  my  ears 

With  sounds  seraphic  ring ; 
Lend,  lend  your  wings  !  I  mount — I  fly ! 
Oh,  Grave  !  where  is  thy  victory  ? 

Oh,  Death  !  where  is  thy  sting  ?" 

"Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let 
my  last  hour  be  like  his." 

Mr.  Hunter. 
Mr.  Pkesident  :  We   have   heard,  with  deep  sen- 
sibility, what  has  just  fallen  from  the  Senators  who 
have  preceded  me.     We  have  heard,  sir,  the  voice 
of  Kentucky — and,  upon  this  occasion,  she  had  a 


23 

right  to  speak — in  mingled  accents  of  pride  and 
sorrow;  for  it  has  rarely  fallen  to  the  lot  of  any 
State  to  lament  the  loss  of  such  a  son.  But  Vir- 
ginia, too,  is  entitled  to  her  place  in  this  procession ; 
for  she  cannot  be  supposed  to  be  unmindful  of  the 
tie  which  bound  her  to  the  dead.  When  the  earth 
opens  to  receive  the  mortal  part  which  she  gave  to 
man,  it  is  then  that  affection  is  eager  to  bury  in  its 
bosom  every  recollection  but  those  of  love  and  kind- 
ness. And,  sir,  when  the  last  sensible  tie  is  about 
to  be  severed,  it  is  then  that  we  look  with  anxious 
interest  to  the  deeds  of  the  life,  and  to  the  emana- 
tions of  the  heart  and  the  mind,  for  those  more 
enduring  monuments  which  are  the  creations  of  an 
immortal  nature. 

In  this  instance,  we  can  be  at  no  loss  for  these. 
This  land,  sir,  is  full  of  the  monuments  of  his 
genius.  His  memory  is  as  imperishable  as  Ameri- 
can history  itself,  for  he  was  one  of  those  who  made 
it.  Sir,  he  belonged  to  that  marked  class  who  are 
the  men  of  their  century ;  for  it  was  his  rare  good 
fortune  not  only  to  have  been  endowed  with  the 
capacity  to  do  great  things,  but  to  have  enjoyed  the 
opportunities  of  achieving  them.  I  know,  sir,  it  has 
been  said  and  deplored,  that  he  wanted  some  of  the 
advantages  of  an  early  education;  but  it,  perhaps, 
has  not  been  remembered  that,  in  many  respects,  he 
enjoyed  such  opportunities  for   mental  training  as 


24 

can  rarely  fall  to  the  lot  of  man.  He  had  not  a 
chance  to  learn  as  much  from  books,  but  he  had 
such  opportunities  of  learning  from  men  as  few  have 
ever  enjoyed.  Sir,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  he 
was  reared  at  a  time  when  there  was  a  state  of 
society,  in  the  commonwealth  which  gave  him  birth, 
such  as  has  never  been  seen  there  before  nor  since. 
It  was  his  early  privilege  to  see  how  justice  was 
administered  by  a  Pendleton  and  a  Wythe,  with  the 
last  of  whom  he  was  in  the  daily  habit  of  familiar 
intercourse.  He  had  constant  opportunities  to  ob- 
serve how  forensic  questions  were  managed  by  a 
Marshall  and  a  Wickham.  He  was  old  enough,  too, 
to  have  heard  and  to  have  appreciated  the  eloquence 
of  a  Patrick  Henry,  and  of  George  Keith  Taylor. 
In  short,  sir,  he  lived  in  a  society  in  which  the 
examples  of  a  Jefferson,  and  a  Madison,  and  a  Mon- 
roe were  living  influences,  and  on  which  the  setting 
sun  of  a  Washington  cast  the  mild  effulgence  of  its 
departing  rays. 

He  was  trained,  too,  as  has  been  well  said  by  the 
Senator  from  Michigan,  [Mr.  Cass,]  at  a  period 
when  the  recent  revolutionary  struggle  had  given  a 
more  elevated  tone  to  patriotism,  and  imparted  a 
higher  cast  to  public  feeling  and  to  public  character. 
Such  lessons  were  worth,  perhaps,  more  to  him  than 
the  whole  encyclopedia  of  scholastic  learning.  Not 
only  were  the  circumstances   of  his  early  training 


25 

favourable  to  the  development  of  his  genius,  but  the 
theatre  upon  which  he  was  thrown,  was  eminently 
propitious  for  its  exercise.  The  circumstances  of 
the  early  settlement  of  Kentucky,  the  generous, 
daring,  and  reckless  character  of  the  people — all 
fitted  it  to  be  the  theatre  for  the  display  of  those 
commanding  qualities  of  heart  and  mind,  which  he 
so  eminently  possessed.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
but  that  those  people  and  their  chosen  leader  exer- 
cised a  mutual  influence  upon  each  other ;  and  no 
one  can  be  surprised  that  with  his  brave  spirit  and 
commanding  eloquence,  and  fascinating  address,  he 
should  have  led  not  only  there  but  elsewhere. 

I  did  not  know  him,  Mr.  President,  as  you  did, 
in  the  freshness  of  his  prime,  or  in  the  full  maturity 
of  his  manhood.  I  did  not  hear  him,  sir,  as  you 
have  heard  him,  when  his  voice  roused  the  spirit 
of  his  countrymen  for  war — when  he  cheered  the 
drooping,  when  he  rallied  the  doubting  through  all 
the  vicissitudes  of  a  long  and  doubtful  contest.  I 
have  never  seen  him,  sir,  when,  from  the  height  of 
the  chair,  he  ruled  the  House  of  Representatives  by 
the  energy  of  his  will,  or  when  upon  the  level  of  the 
floor  he  exercised  a  control  almost  as  absolute,  by 
the  mastery  of  his  intellect.  When  I  first  knew 
him,  his  sun  had  a  little  passed  its  zenith.  The 
effacing  hand  of  time  had  just  begun  to  touch  the 
lineaments   of  his   manhood.     But  yet,   sir,  I  saw 


26 

enough  of  him  to  be  able  to  realize  what  he  might 
have  been  in  the  prime  of  his  strength,  and  in  the 
full  vigour  of  his  maturity.  I  saw  him,  sir,  as  you 
did,  when  he  led  the  "opposition"  during  the  ad- 
ministration of  Mr.  Yan  Buren.  I  had  daily  oppor- 
tunities of  witnessing  the  exhibition  of  his  powers 
during  the  extra  session  under  Mr.  Tyler's  adminis- 
tration. And  I  saw,  as  we  all  saw,  in  a  recent  con- 
test, the  exhibition  of  power  on  his  part,  which  was 
most  marvellous  in  one  of  his  years. 

Mr.  President,  he  may  not  have  had  as  much 
of  analytic  skill  as  some  others,  in  dissecting  a  sub- 
ject. It  may  be,  perhaps,  that  he  did  not  seek  to 
look  quite  so  far  ahead  as  some  who  have  been  most 
distinguished  for  political  forecast.  But  it  may  be 
truly  said  of  Mr.  Clay,  that  he  was  no  exaggerator. 
He  looked  at  events  through  neither  end  of  the 
telescope,  but  surveyed  them  with  the  natural  and 
"the  naked  eye.  He  had  the  capacity  of  seeing 
things  as  the  people  saw  them,  and  of  feeling  things 
as  the  people  felt  them.  He  had,  sir,  beyond  any 
other  man  whom  I  have  ever  seen,  the  true  mes- 
meric touch  of  the  orator — the  rare  art  of  trans- 
ferring his  impulses  to  others.  Thoughts,  feelings, 
emotions,  came  from  the  ready  mould  of  his  genius, 
radiant  and  glowing,  and  communicated  their  own 
warmth  to  every  heart  which  received  them.  His, 
too,   was   the   power   of  wielding   the   higher   and 


27 

intenser  forms  of  passion  with  a  majesty  and  an 
ease,  which  none  but  the  great  masters  of  the 
human  heart  can  ever  employ.  It  was  his  rare 
good  fortune  to  have  been  one  of  those  who  form, 
as  it  were,  a  sensible  link,  a  living  tradition  which 
connects  one  age  with  another,  and  through  which 
one  generation  speaks  its  thoughts  and  feelings,  and 
appeals  to  another.  And,  unfortunate  is  it  for  a 
country,  when  it  ceases  to  possess  such  men,  for  it  is 
to  them  that  we  chiefly  owe  the  capacity  to  maintain 
the  unity  of  the  great  Epos  of  human  history,  and 
preserve  the  consistency  of  political  action. 

Sir,  it  may  be  said  that  the  grave  is  still  new-made 
which  covers  the  mortal  remains  of  one  of  those 
great  men  who  have  been  taken  from  our  midst,  and 
the  earth  is  soon  to  open  to  receive  another.  I 
know  not  whether  it  can  be  said  to  be  a  matter  of 
lamentation,  so  far  as  the  dead  are  concerned,  that 
the  thread  of  this  life  has  been  clipped  when  once  it 
had  been  fully  spun.  They  escape  the  infirmities 
of  age,  and  they  leave  an  imperishable  name  behind 
them.  The  loss,  sir,  is  not  theirs,  but  ours;  and  a 
loss  the  more  to  be  lamented  that  we  see  none  to 
fill  the  places  thus  made  vacant  on  the  stage  of 
public  affairs.  But  it  may  be  well  for  us,  who  have 
much  more  cause  to  mourn  and  to  lament  such 
deaths,  to  pause  amidst  the  business  of  life  for  the 
purpose    of  contemplating   the   spectacle  before  us, 


28 

and  of  drawing  the  moral  from  the  passing  event. 
It  is  when  death  seizes  for  its  victims  those  who  are, 
by  "a  head  and  shoulders,  taller  than  all  the  rest," 
that  we  feel  most  deeply  the  uncertainty  of  human 
affairs,  and  that  "  the  glories  of  our  mortal  state  are 
shadows,  not  substantial  things."  It  is,  sir,  in  such 
instances  as  the  present  that  we  can  best  study  by 
the  light  of  example  the  true  objects  of  life,  and  the 
wisest  ends  of  human  pursuit. 

Mr.  Hale. 

Mr.  President  :  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  considered 
obtrusive,  if  on  this  occasion  for  a  brief  moment,  I 
mingle  my  humble  voice  with  those  that,  with  an 
ability  that  I  shall  neither  attempt  nor  hope  to 
equal,  have  sought  to  do  justice  to  the  worth  and 
memory  of  the  deceased,  and  at  the  same  time  ap- 
propriately to  minister  to  the  sympathies  and  sor- 
rows of  a  stricken  people.  Sir,  it  is  the  teaching  of 
inspiration  that  "no  man  liveth  and  no  man  dieth 
unto  himself." 

There  is  a  lesson  taught  no  less  in  the  death  than 
in  the  life  of  every  man — eminently  so  in  the  case 
of  one  who  has  filled  a  large  space  and  occupied  a 
distinguished  position  in  the  thoughts  and  regard  of 
his  fellow-men.  Particularly  instructive  at  this  time 
is  the  event  which  we  now  deplore,  although  the 
circumstances  attending  his  decease  are  such  as  are 
calculated  to  assuage  rather  than  aggravate  the  grief 


29 

which  it  must  necessarily  cause.  His  time  had  fully 
come.  •  The  three  score  and  ten  marking  the  ordi- 
nary period  of  human  life  had  for  some  years  been 
passed,  and,  full  of  years  and  of  honours,  he  has 
gone  to  his  rest.  And  now,  when  the  nation  is  mar- 
shalling itself  for  the  contest  which  is  to  decide  "who 
shall  be  greatest,"  as  if  to  chasten  our  ambition,  to 
restrain  and  subdue  the  violence  of  passion,  to  mode- 
rate our  desires  and  elevate  our  hopes,  we  have  the 
spectacle  of  one  who,  by  the  force  of  his  intellect 
and  the  energy  of  his  own  purpose,  had  achieved  a 
reputation  which  the  highest  official  honours  of  the 
Republic  might  have  illustrated,  but  could  not  have 
enhanced,  laid  low  in  death — as  if,  at  the  very  out- 
set of  this  political  contest,  on  which  the  nation  is 
now  entering,  to  teach  the  ambitious  and  aspiring 
the  vanity  of  human  pursuit  and  end  of  earthly 
honour.  But,  sir,  I  do  not  intend  to  dwell  on  that 
moral  which  is  taught  by  the  silent  lips  and  closed 
eye  of  the  illustrious  dead,  with  a  force  such  as  no 
man  ever  spoke  with ;  but  I  shall  leave  the  event, 
with  its  silent  and  mute  eloquence,  to  impress  its 
own  appropriate  teachings  on  the  heart. 

In  the  long  and  eventful  life  of  Mr.  Clay,  in  the 
various  positions  which  he  occupied,  in  the  many 
posts  of  public  duty  which  he  filled,  in  the  many 
exhibitions  which  his  history  affords  of  untiring 
energy,  of  unsurpassed  eloquence,  and  of  devoted 
patriotism,  it  would  be   strange  indeed  if  different 


30 

minds,  as  they  dwell  upon  the  subject,  were  all  to 
select  the  same  incidents  of  his  life  as  pre-eminently 
calculated  to  challenge  admiration  and  respect. 

Sir,  my  admiration — aye,  my  affection  for  Mr.  Clay 
— was  won  and  secured  many  years  since,  even  in 
my  school-boy  days — when  his  voice  of  counsel,  en- 
couragement, and  sympathy  was  heard  in  the  other 
Hall  of  this  Capitol,  in  behalf  of  the  struggling  colo- 
nies of  the  southern  portion  of  this  continent,  who, 
in  pursuit  of  their  inalienable  rights,  in  imitation  of 
our  own  forefathers,  had  unfurled  the  banner  of 
liberty,  and,  regardless  of  consequences,  had  gal- 
lantly rushed  into  that  contest  where  "  life  is  lost, 
or  freedom  won."  And  again,  sir,  when  Greece, 
rich  in  the  memories  of  the  past,  awoke  from  the 
slumber  of  ages  of  oppression  and  centuries  of  shame, 
and  resolved 

"  To  call  her  virtues  back,  and  conquer  time  and  fate" — 

there,  over  the  plains  of  that  classic  land,  above  the 
din  of  battle  and  the  clash  of  arms,  mingling  with 
the  shouts  of  the  victors  and  the  groans  of  the  van- 
quished, were  heard  the  thrilling  and  stirring  notes 
of  that  same  eloquence,  excited  by  a  sympathy 
which  knew  no  bounds,  wide  as  the  world,  pleading 
the  cause  of  Grecian  liberty  before  the  American 
Congress,  as  if  to  pay  back  to  Greece  the  debt  which 
every  patriot  and  orator  felt  was  her  due.  Sir,  in 
the  long  and  honourable  career  of  the  deceased, 
there    are    many   events   and    circumstances    upon 


31 

which  his  friends  and  posterity  will  dwell  with 
satisfaction  and  pride,  but  none  which  will  preserve 
his  memory  with  more  unfading  lustre  to  future 
ages  than  the  course  he  pursued  in  the  Spanish- 
American  and  Greek  revolutions. 

Mr.  Clemens. 

Mr.  President:  I  should  not  have  thought  it 
necessary  to  add  any  thing  to  what  has  already  been 
said,  but  for  a  request  preferred  by  some  of  the 
friends  of  the  deceased.  I  should  have  been  con- 
tent to  mourn  him  in  silence,  and  left  it  to  other 
tongues  to  pronounce  his  eulogy.  What  I  have  now 
to  say  shall  be  brief — very  brief. 

Mr.  President,  it  is  now  less  than  three  short  years 
ago  since  I  first  entered  this  body.  At  that  period 
it  numbered  among  its  members  many  of  the  most 
illustrious  statesmen  this  Republic  has  ever  produced, 
or  the  world  has  ever  known.  Of  the  living,  it  is 
not  my  purpose  to  speak;  but  in  that  brief  period, 
death  has  been  busy  here ;  and,  as  if  to  mark  the 
feebleness  of  human  things,  his  arrows  have  been 
aimed  at  the  highest,  the  mightiest  of  us  all.  First, 
died  Calhoun.  And  well,  sir,  do  I  remember  the 
deep  feeling  evinced  on  that  occasion  by  him  whose 
death  has  been  announced  here  to-day,  when  he  said : 
"I  was  his  senior  in  years — in  nothing  else.  In  the 
course  of  nature  I  ought  to  have  preceded  him.     It 


32 


has  been  decreed  otherwise;  but  I  know  that  I  shall 
linger  here  only  a  short  time,  and  shall  soon  follow 
him."  It  was  genius  mourning  over  his  younger 
brother,  and  too  surely  predicting  his  own  approach- 
ing end. 

He,  too,  is  now  gone  from  among  us,  and  left  none 
like  him  behind.  That  voice,  whose  every  tone  was 
music,  is  hushed  and  still.  That  clear,  bright  eye  is 
dim  and  lustreless,  and  that  breast,  where  grew  and 
flourished  every  quality  which  could  adorn  and  dig- 
nify our  nature,  is  cold  as  the  clod  that  soon  must 
cover  it.  A  few  hours  have  wrought  a  mighty 
change — a  change  for  which  a  lingering  illness  had, 
indeed,  in  some  degree,  prepared  us ;  but  which,  ne- 
vertheless, will  still  fall  upon  the  nation  with  crush- 
ing force.  Many  a  sorrowing  heart  is  now  asking, 
as  I  did  yesterday,  when  I  heard  the  first  sound  of 
the  funeral  bell — 


'■'  And  is  he  gone  ? — the  pure  of  the  purest, 
The  hand  that  upheld  our  bright  banner  the  surest, 

Is  he  gone  from  our  struggles  away  ? 
But  yesterday  lending  a  people  new  life, 

Cold,  mute,  in  the  coffin  to-day." 


Mr.  President,  this  is  an  occasion  when  eulogy 
must  fail  to  perform  its  office.  The  long  life  which 
is  now  ended  is  a  history  of  glorious  deeds  too 
mighty  for  the  tongue  of  praise.  It  is  in  the  hearts 
of  his  countrymen  that  his  best  epitaph  must  be 


33 

written.  It  is  in  the  admiration  of  a  world  that  his 
renown  must  be  recorded.  In  that  deep  love  of 
country  which  distinguished  every  period  of  his  life, 
he  may  not  have  been  unrivalled.  In  loftiness  of 
intellect,  he  was  not  without  his  peers.  The  skill 
with  which  he  touched  every  chord  of  the  human 
heart  may  have  been  equalled.  The  iron  will,  the 
unbending  firmness,  the  fearless  courage,  which 
marked  his  character,  may  have  been  shared  by 
others.  But  where  shall  we  go  to  find  all  these  qua- 
lities united,  concentrated,  blended  into  one  brilliant 
whole,  and  shedding  a  lustre  upon  one  single  head, 
which  does  not  dazzle  the  beholder  only  because  it 
attracts  his  love  and  demands  his  worship  ? 

I  scarcely  know,  sir,  how  far  it  may  be  allowable, 
upon  an  occasion  like  this,  to  refer  to  party  strug- 
gles which  have  left  wounds  not  yet  entirely  healed. 
I  will  venture,  however,  to  suggest,  that  it  should 
be  a  source  of  consolation  to  his  friends  that  he  lived 
long  enough  to  see  the  full  accomplishment  of  the  last 
great  work  of  his  life,  and  to  witness  the  total  dis- 
appearance of  that  sectional  tempest  which  threat- 
ened to  whelm  the  Republic  in  ruins.  Both  the 
great  parties  of  the  country  have  agreed  to  stand 
upon  the  platform  which  he  erected,  and  both  of 
them  have  solemnly  pledged  themselves  to  maintain 
unimpaired  the  work  of  his  hands.  I  doubt  not 
the  knowledge  of  this    cheered    him    in   his  dying 


34 

moments,  and  helped  to  steal  away  the   pangs  of 
dissolution. 

Mr.  President,  if  I  knew  any  thing  more  that  I 
could  say,  I  would  gladly  utter  it.  To  me,  he  was 
something  more  than  kind,  and  I  am  called  upon  to 
mingle  a  private  with  the  public  grief.  I  wish  that 
I  could  do  something  to  add  to  his  fame.  But  he 
built  for  himself  a  monument  of  immortality,  and 
left  to  his  friends  no  task  but  that  of  soothing  their 
own  sorrow  for  his  loss.  We  pay  to  him  the  tribute 
of  our  tears.  More  we  have  no  power  to  bestow. 
Patriotism,  honour,  genius,  courage,  have  all  come  to 
strew  their  garlands  about  his  tomb;  and  well  they 
may,  for  he  was  the  peer  of  them  all.     • 

Mr.  Cooper. 

Mr.  President  :  It  is  not  always  by  words  that 
the  living  pay  to  the  dead  the  sincerest  and  most 
eloquent  tribute.  The  tears  of  a  nation,  flowing 
spontaneously  over  the  grave  of  a  public  benefactor, 
is  a  more  eloquent  testimonial  of  his  worth  and  of 
the  affection  and  veneration  of  his  countrymen,  than 
the  most  highly-wrought  eulogium  of  the  most  gifted 
tongue.  The  heart  is  not  necessarily  the  fountain 
of  words,  but  it  is  always  the  source  of  tears,  whether 
of  joy,  gratitude,  or  grief.  But  sincere,  truthful, 
and  eloquent,  as  they  are,  they  leave  no  permanent 
record  of  the  virtues  and  greatness  of  him  on  whose 


tomb  they  are  shed.  As  the  dews  of  heaven  falling 
at  night  are  absorbed  by  the  earth,  or  dried  up  by 
the  morning  sun,  so  the  tears  of  a  people,  shed  for 
their  benefactor,  disappear  without  leaving  a  trace  to 
tell  to  future  generations  of  the  services,  sacrifices, 
and  virtues  of  him  to  whose  memory  they  were  a 
grateful  tribute.  But  as  homage  paid  to  virtue  is  an 
incentive  to  it,  it  is  right  that  the  memory  of  the 
good,  the  great,  and  noble  of  the  earth  should  be 
preserved  and  honoured. 

The  ambition,  Mr.  President,  of  the  truly  great, 
is  more  the  hope  of  living  in  the  memory  and  esti- 
mation of  future  ages  than  of  possessing  power  in 
their  owrn.  It  is  this  hope  that  stimulates  them  to 
perseverance;  that  enables  them  to  encounter  disap- 
pointment, ingratitude,  and  neglect,  and  to  press  on 
through  toils,  privations,  and  perils  to  the  end.  It 
was  not  the  hope  of  discovering  a  world,  over  which 
he  should  himself  exercise  dominion,  that  sustained 
Columbus  in  all  his  trials.  It  was  not  for  this 
he  braved  danger,  disappointment,  poverty,  and  re- 
proach. It  was  not  for  this  he  subdued  his  native 
pride,  wandered  from  kingdom  to  kingdom,  kneeling 
at  the  feet  of  princes,  a  suppliant  for  means  to  prose- 
cute his  sublime  enterprise.  It  was  not  for  this,  after 
having  at  last  secured  the  patronage  of  Isabella, 
that  he  put  off  in  his  crazy  and  ill-appointed  fleet 
into  unknown  seas,  to  struggle  with  storms  and  tern- 


36 

pests,  and  the  rage  of  a  mutinous  crew.  It  was 
another  and  nobler  kind  of  ambition  that  stimulated 
him  to  contend  with  terror,  superstition,  and  despair, 
and  to  press  forward  on  his  perilous  course,  when  the 
needle  in  his  compass,  losing  its  polarity,  seemed  to 
unite  with  the  fury  of  the  elements  and  the  insub- 
ordination of  his  crew  in  turning  him  back  from  his 
perilous  but  glorious  undertaking.  It  was  the  hope 
which  was  realized  at  last,  when  his  ungrateful 
country  was  compelled  to  inscribe,  as  an  epitaph  on 
his  tomb — 

"COLUMBUS  HAS  GIVEN  A  NEW  WORLD  TO  THE  KING- 
DOMS OF  CASTILE  AND  LEON," 

that  enabled  him,  at  first,  to  brave  so  many  disap- 
pointments, and  at  last,  to  conquer  the  multitude  of 
perils  that  beset  his  pathway  on  the  deep.  This,  sir, 
is  the  ambition  of  the  truly  great — not  to  achieve 
present  fame,  but  future  immortality.  This  being 
the  case,  it  is  befitting  here  to-day,  to  add  to  the  life 
of  Henry  Clay  the  record  of  his  death,  signalized  as 
it  is  by  a  nation's  gratitude  and  grief.  It  is  right 
that  posterity  should  learn  from  us,  the  contemporaries 
of  the  illustrious  deceased,  that  his  virtues  and  ser- 
vices were  appreciated  by  his  country,  and  acknow- 
ledged by  the  tears  of  his  countrymen  poured  out 
upon  his  grave. 


37 

The  career  of  Henry  Clay  was  a  wonderful  one. 
And  what  an  illustration  of  the  excellence  of  our 
institutions  would  a  retrospect  of  his  life  afford ! 
Born  in  an  humble  station,  without  any  of  the 
adventitious  aids  of  fortune  by  which  the  obstruc- 
tions on  the  road  to  fame  are  smoothed,  he  rose  not 
only  to  the  most  exalted  eminence  of  position,  but 
likewise  to  the  highest  place  in  the  affections  of  his 
countrymen.  Taking  into  view  the  disadvantages 
of  his  early  position,  disadvantages  against  which 
he  had  always  to  contend,  his  career  is  without  a 
parallel  in  the  history  of  great  men.  To  have  seen 
him  a  youth,  without  friends  or  fortune,  and  with 
but  a  scanty  education,  who  would  have  ventured 
to  predict  for  him  a  course  so  brilliant  and  benefi- 
cent, and  a  fame  so  well  deserved  and  enduring? 
Like  the  pine,  which  sometimes  springs  up  amidst 
the  rocks  on  the  mountain  side,  with  scarce  a 
crevice  in  which  to  fix  its  roots,  or  soil  to  nourish 
them,  but  which,  nevertheless,  overtops  all  the 
trees  of  the  surrounding  forest,  Henry  Clay,  by 
his  own  inherent,  self-sustaining  energy  and  genius, 
rose  to  an  altitude  of  fame  almost  unequalled  in  the 
age  in  which  he  lived.  As  an  orator,  legislator,  and 
statesman,  he  had  no  superior.  All  his  faculties 
were  remarkable,  and  in  remarkable  combination. 
Possessed  of  a  brilliant  genius  and  fertile  imagina- 
tion, his  judgment  was  sound,   discriminating,  and 


38 

eminently  practical.  Of  an  ardent  and  impetuous 
temperament,  he  was  nevertheless  persevering  and 
firm  of  purpose.  Frank,  bold,  and  intrepid,  he  was 
cautious  in  providing  against  the  contingencies  and 
obstacles  which  might  possibly  rise  up  in  the  road  to 
success.  Generous,  liberal,  and  entertaining  broad 
and  expanded  views  of  national  policy,  in  his  legis- 
lative course  he  never  transcended  the  limits  of  a 
wise  economy. 

But,  Mr.  President,  of  all  his  faculties,  that  of 
making  friends  and  attaching  them  to  him  was  the 
most  remarkable  and  extraordinary.  In  this  respect, 
he  seemed  to  possess  a  sort  of  fascination,  by  which 
all  who  came  into  his  presence  were  attracted 
towards,  and  bound  to  him  by  ties  which  neither 
time  nor  circumstances  had  power  to  dissolve  or 
weaken.  In  the  admiration  of  his  friends  was  the 
recognition  of  the  divinity  of  intellect ;  in  their 
attachment  to  him  a  confession  of  his  generous  per- 
sonal qualities  and  social  virtues. 

Of  the  public  services  of  Mr.  Clay,  the  present 
occasion  affords  no  room  for  a  sketch  more  extended 
than  that  which  his  respected  colleague  [Mr.  Under- 
wood] has  presented.  It  is,  however,  sufficient  to 
say,  that  for  more  than  forty  years  he  has  been  a 
prominent  actor  in  the  drama  of  American  affairs. 
During  the  late  war  with  England,  his  voice  was 
more  potent  than  any  other  in  awakening  the  spirit 


39 

of  the  country,  infusing  confidence  into  the  people, 
and  rendering  available  the  resources  for  carrying  on 
the  contest.  In  our  domestic  controversies,  threat- 
ening the  peace  of  the  country  and  the  integrity  of 
the  Union,  he  has  always  been  first  to  note  danger 
as  well  as  to  suggest  the  means  of  averting  it. 
When  the  waters  of  the  great  political  deep  were 
upheaved  by  the  tempest  of  discord,  and  the  ark  of 
the  Union,  freighted  with  the  hopes  and  destinies  of 
freedom,  tossing  about  on  the  raging  billows,  and 
drifting  every  moment  nearer  to  the  vortex  which 
threatened  to  swallow  it  up,  it  was  his  clarion  voice, 
rising  above  the  storm,  that  admonished  the  crew 
of  impending  peril,  and  counselled  the  way  to 
safety. 

But,  Mr.  President,  devotedly  as  he  loved  his 
country,  his  aspirations  were  not  limited  to  its 
welfare  alone.  Wherever  freedom  had  a  votary, 
that  votary  had  a  friend  in  Henry  Clay  ;  and  in  the 
struggle  of  the  Spanish  colonies  for  independence  he 
uttered  words  of  encouragement  which  have  become 
the  mottos  on  the  banners  of  freedom  in  every  land. 
But  neither  the  services  which  he  has  rendered  his 
own  country,  nor  his  wishes  for  the  welfare  of  others, 
nor  his  genius,  nor  the  affection  of  friends,  could  turn 
aside  the  destroyer.  No  price  could  purchase  ex- 
emption from  the  common  lot  of  humanity.  Henry 
Clay,  the  wise,  the  great,  the   gifted,  had  to  die; 


40 

and  his  history  is  summed  up  in  the  biography 
which  the  Russian  poet  has  prepared  for  all,  kings 
and  serfs; 

*     *     *     *     "born,  living,  dying, 
Quitting  the  still  shore  for  the  troubled  wave, 
Struggling  with  storm-clouds,  over  shipwrecks  flying, 
And  casting  anchor  in  the  silent  grave." 

But  though  time  would  not  spare  him,  there  is  still 
this  of  consolation :  he  died  peacefully  and  happy, 
ripe  in  renown,  full  of  years  and  of  honours,  and 
rich  in  the  affections  of  his  country.  He  had,  too, 
the  unspeakable  satisfaction  of  closing  his  eyes 
whilst  the  country  he  had  loved  so  much  and  served 
so  well  was  still  in  the  enjoyment  of  peace,  happiness, 
union,  and  prosperity — still  advancing  in  all  the 
elements  of  wealth,  greatness,  and  power. 

I  know,  Mr.  President,  how  unequal  I  have  been 
to  the  apparently  self-imposed  task  of  presenting,  in 
an  appropriate  manner,  the  merits  of  the  illustrious 
deceased.  But  if  I  had  remained  silent  on  an  occa- 
sion like  this,  when  the  hearts  of  my  constituents 
are  swelling  with  grief,  I  would  have  been  disowned 
by  them.  It  is  for  this  reason — that  of  giving 
utterance  to  their  feelings  as  well  as  of  my  own — 
that  I  have  trespassed  on  the  time  of  the  Senate. 
I  would  that  I  could  have  spoken  fitter  words;  but, 
such  as  they  are,  they  were  uttered  by  the  tongue 
in  response  to  the  promptings  of  the  heart. 


41 

Mr.  Seward. 

Mr.  President  :  Fifty  years  ago,  Henry  Clay  of 
Virginia,  already  adopted  by  Kentucky,  then  as 
youthful  as  himself,  entered  the  service  of  his 
country,  a  Representative  in  the  unpretending 
Legislature  of  that  rising  State ;  and  having  thence- 
forward, with  ardour  and  constancy,  pursued  the 
gradual  paths  of  an  aspiring  change  through  Halls 
of  Congress,  Foreign  Courts  and  Executive  Councils, 
he  has  now,  with  the  cheerfulness  of  a  patriot,  and 
the  serenity  of  a  Christian,  fitly  closed  his  long  and 
arduous  career,  here  in  the  Senate,  in  the  full  pre- 
sence of  the  Republic,  looking  down  upon  the  scene 
with  anxiety  and  alarm,  not  merely  a  Senator  like 
one  of  us  who  yet  remain  in  the  Senate  House,  but 
filling  that  character  which,  though  it  had  no  au- 
thority of  law  and  was  assigned  without  suffrage, 
Augustus  Caesar  nevertheless  declared  was  above 
the  title  of  Emperor,  Primus  inter  lllustres — the 
Prince  of  the  Senate. 

Generals  are  tried,  Mr.  President,  by  examining 
the  campaigns  they  have  lost  or  won,  and  statesmen 
by  reviewing  the  transactions  in  which  they  have 
been  engaged.  Hamilton  would  have  been  unknown 
to  us,  had  there  been  no  constitution  to  be  created ; 
as  Brutus  would  have  died  in  obscurity,  had  there 
been  no  Caesar  to  be  slain. 

Colonization,  Revolution,  and  Organization — three 
great  acts  in  the  drama  of  our  National  Progress — 


42 

had  already  passed  when  the  Western  Patriot  ap- 
peared on  the  public  stage.  He  entered  in  that  next 
division  of  the  majestic  scenes  which  was  marked 
by  an  inevitable  reaction  of  political  forces,  a  wild 
strife  of  factions  and  ruinous  embarrassments  in  our 
foreign  relations.  This  transition  stage  is  always 
more  perilous  than  any  other  in  the  career  of  na- 
tions, and  especially  in  the  career  of  Republics.  It 
proved  fatal  to  the  Commonwealth  in  England. 
Scarcely  any  of  the  Spanish- American  States  have 
yet  emerged  from  it;  and  more  than  once  it  has 
been  sadly  signalized  by  the  ruin  of  the  Republican 
cause  in  France. 

The  continuous  administration  of  Washington 
and  John  Adams  had  closed  under  a  cloud  which 
had  thrown  a  broad,  dark  shadow  over  the  future ; 
the  nation  was  deeply  indebted  at  home  and  abroad, 
and  its  credit  was  prostrate.  The  Revolutionary 
factions  had  given  place  to  two  inveterate  parties, 
divided  by  a  gulf  which  had  been  worn  by  the  con- 
flict in  which  the  Constitution  was  adopted,  and 
made  broader  and  deeper  by  a  war  of  prejudices  con- 
cerning the  merits  of  the  belligerents  in  the  great 
European  struggle  that  then  convulsed  the  civilized 
world.  Our  extraordinary  political  system  was  little 
more  than  an  ingenious  theory,  not  yet  practically 
established.  The  union  of  the  States  was  as  yet 
only  one  of  compact;  for  the  political,  social,  and 
commercial  necessities  to  which  it  was  so  marvel- 


43 

ously  adapted,  and  which,  clustering  thickly  upon 
it,  now  render  it  indissoluble,  had  not  then  been 
broadly  disclosed,  nor  had  the  habits  of  acquiescence 
and  the  sentiments  of  loyalty,  always  slow  of  growth, 
fully  ripened.  The  bark  that  had  gone  to  sea,  thus 
unfurnished  and  untried,  seemed  quite  certain  to 
founder  by  reason  of  its  own  inherent  frailty,  even 
if  it  should  escape  unharmed  in  the  great  conflict  of 
nations  which  acknowledged  no  claims  of  justice 
and  tolerated  no  pretensions  of  neutrality.  More- 
over, the  territory  possessed  by  the  nation  was  in- 
adequate to  commercial  exigencies  and  indispensable 
social  expansion;  and  yet  no  provision  had  been 
made  for  enlargement,  nor  for  extending  the  political 
system  over  distant  regions,  inhabited  or  otherwise, 
which  must  inevitably  be  acquired.  Nor  could  any 
such  acquisition  be  made,  without  disturbing  the 
carefully-adjusted  balance  of  powers  among  the 
members  of  the  confederacy. 

These  difficulties,  Mr.  President,  although  they 
grew  less  with  time  and  by  slow  degrees,  continued 
throughout  the  whole  life  of  the  statesman  whose 
obsequies  we  are  celebrating.  Be  it  known,  then, 
and  I  am  sure  that  history  will  confirm  the  instruc- 
tion, that  Conservatism  was  the  interest  of  the  na- 
tion, and  the  responsibility  of  its  Rulers,  during  the 
period  in  which  he  flourished.  He  was  ardent,  bold, 
generous,  and  even  ambitious ;  and  yet  with  a  pro- 
found conviction  of  the  true  exigencies  of  the  country, 


44 

like  Alexander  Hamilton,  he  disciplined  himself  and 
trained  a  restless  nation,  that  knew  only  self-control, 
to  the  rigorous  practice  of  that  often  humiliating 
conservatism  which  its  welfare  and  security  in  that 
particular  crisis  so  imperiously  demanded. 

It  could  not  happen,  sir,  to  any  citizen  to  have 
acted  alone,  nor  even  to  have  acted  always  the 
most  conspicuous  part  in  a  trying  period  so  long 
protracted.  Henry  Clay,  therefore,  shared  the  re- 
sponsibilities of  Government  with  not  only  his 
proper  contemporaries,  but  also  survivors  of  the  Revo- 
lution, as  well  as  also  many  who  will  succeed  him- 
self. Delicacy  forbids  the  naming  of  those  who  retain 
their  places  here,  but  we  may  without  impropriety 
recall  among  his  compeers  a  Senator  of  vast  resources 
and  inflexible  resolve,  who  has  recently  withdrawn 
from  this  Chamber,  but  I  trust  not  altogether  from 
public  life,  (Mr.  Benton)  ;  and  another,  who,  sur- 
passing all  his  contemporaries  within  his  country, 
and  even  throughout  the  world,  in  proper  eloquence 
of  the  Forum,  now  in  autumnal  years  for  a  second 
times  dignifies  and  adorns  the  highest  seat  in  the 
Executive  Council,  (Mr.  Webster.)  Passing  by 
these  eminent  and  noble  men,  the  shades  of 
Calhoun,  John  Quincy  Adams,  Jackson,  Monroe, 
and  Jefferson,  rise  up  before  us — statesmen  whose 
living  and  local  fame  has  ripened  already  into  his- 
torical and  world-wide  renown. 

Among  geniuses  so  lofty  as  these,  Henry  Clay 


45 

bore  a  part  in  regulating  the  constitutional  freedom 
of  political  debate ;  establishing  that  long-contested 
and  most  important  line  which  divides  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  several  States  from  that  of  the  States 
confederated ;  asserting  the  right  of  Neutrality,  and 
vindicating  it  by  a  war  against  Great  Britain,  when 
that  just  but  extreme  measure  became  necessary; 
adjusting  the  terms  on  which  that  perilous  yet 
honourable  contest  was  brought  to  a  peaceful  close ; 
perfecting  the  Army  and  the  Navy,  and  the  national 
fortifications ;  settling  the  fiscal  and  financial  policy 
of  the  Government  in  more  than  one  crisis  of  appa- 
rently threatened  revolution;  asserting  and  calling 
into  exercise  the  powers  of  the  Government  for 
making  and  improving  internal  communications 
between  the  States;  arousing  and  encouraging  the 
Spanish-American  Colonies  on  this  Continent  to 
throw  off  the  foreign  yoke,  and  to  organize  Govern- 
ments on  principles  congenial  to  our  own,  and  thus 
creating  external  bulwarks  for  our  own  national 
defence  :  establishing  equal  and  impartial  peace  and 
amity  with  all  existing  maritime  Powers ;  and  ex- 
tending the  constitutional  organization  of  Govern- 
ment over  all  the  vast  regions  secured  in  his  lifetime 
by  purchase  or  by  conquest,  whereby  the  pillars  of 
the  Republic  have  been  removed  from  the  banks  of 
the  St.  Mary  to  the  borders  of  the  Rio  Grande, 
and  from  the  margin  of  the  Mississippi  to  the  Pa- 
cific coast.    We  may  not  yet  discuss  here  the  wisdom 


46 

of  the  several  measures  which  have  thus  passed  in 
review  before  us,  nor  of  the  positions  which  the  de- 
ceased statesman  assumed  in  regard  to  them,  but  we 
may  without  offence  dwell  upon  the  comprehensive 
results  of  them  all. 

The  Union  exists  in  absolute  integrity,  and  the  Ke- 
publican  system  is  in  complete  and  triumphant  deve- 
lopment. Without  having  relinquished  any  part  of 
their  individuality,  the  States  have  more  than  doubled 
already,  and  are  increasing  in  numbers  and  political 
strength  and  expansion  more  rapidly  than  ever  before. 
Without  having  absorbed  any  State,  or  having  even 
encroached  on  any  State,  the  Confederation  has 
opened  itself  so  as  to  embrace  all  the  new  members 
who  have  come,  and  now  with  capacity  for  further  and 
indefinite  enlargements  has  become  fixed,  enduring, 
and  perpetual.  Although  it  was  doubted  only  half 
a  century  ago  whether  our  political  system  could  be 
maintained  at  all,  and  whether,  if  maintained,  it 
could  guarantee  the  peace  and  happiness  of  society, 
it  stands  now  confessed  by  the  world  the  form  of 
Government  not  only  most  adapted  to  Empire,  but 
also  most  congenial  with  the  constitution  of  Human 
Nature. 

When  we  consider  that  the  nation  has  been  con- 
ducted to  this  haven,  not  only  through  stormy  seas, 
but  altogether,  also,  without  a  course  and  without 
a  star;  and  when  we  consider  moreover,  the  sum 
of  happiness  that  has  already  been  enjoyed  by  the 


47 

American  People,  and  still  more  the  influence  which 
the  great  achievement  is  exerting  for  the  advance- 
ment and  melioration  of  the  condition  of  mankind, 
we  see  at  once  that  it  might  have  satisfied  the  high- 
est ambition  to  have  been,  no  matter  how  humbly, 
concerned  in  so  great  transaction. 

Certainly,  sir,  no  one  will  assert  that  Henry  Clay 
in  that  transaction  performed  an  obscure  or  even  a 
common  part.  On  the  contrary,  from  the  day  on 
which  he  entered  the  public  service  until  that  on 
which  he  passed  the  gates  of  death,  he  was  never  a 
follower,  but  always  a  leader;  and  he  marshalled 
either  the  party  which  sustained  or  that  which  re- 
sisted every  great  measure,  equally  in  the  Senate 
and  among  the  people.  He  led  where  duty 
seemed  to  him  to  indicate,  reckless  whether  he 
encountered  one  President  or  twenty  Presidents, 
whether  he  was  opposed  by  factions  or  even  by  the 
whole  people.  Hence  it  has  happened,  that  although 
that  people  are  not  yet  agreed  among  themselves  on 
the  wisdom  of  all,  or  perhaps  of  even  any  of  his 
great  measures,  yet  they  are  nevertheless  unanimous 
in  acknowledging  that  he  was  at  once  the  greatest, 
the  most  faithful  and  the  most  reliable  of  their 
statesmen.  Here  the  effort  at  discriminating  praise  of 
Henry  Clay,  in  regard  to  his  public  policy,  must  stop 
in  this  place,  even  on  this  sad  occasion  which  awakens 
the  ardent  liberality  of  his  generous  survivors. 

But  his  personal  qualities  may  be  discussed  with- 


48 

out  apprehension.  What  were  the  elements  of  the 
success  of  that  extraordinary  man  ?  You,  sir,  knew 
him  longer  and  better  than  I,  and  I  would  prefer  to 
hear  you  speak  of  them.  He  was  indeed  eloquent — 
all  the  world  knows  that.  He  held  the  keys  to  the 
hearts  of  his  countrymen,  and  he  turned  the  wards 
within  them  with  a  skill  attained  by  no  other 
master. 

But  eloquence  was  nevertheless  only  an  instru- 
ment, and  one  of  many  that  he  used.  His  conversa- 
tion, his  gesture,  his  very  look,  was  persuasive, 
seductive,  irresistible.  And  his  appliance  of  all 
these  was  courteous,  patient  and  indefatigable. 
Defeat  only  inspired  him  with  new  resolution.  He 
divided  opposition  by  his  assiduity  of  address,  while 
he  rallied  and  strengthened  his  own  bands  of  sup- 
porters by  the  confidence  of  success  which,  feeling 
himself,  he  easily  inspired  among  his  followers.  His 
affections  were  high,  and  pure,  and  generous,  and  the 
chiefest  among  them  was  that  which  the  great 
Italian  poet  designated  as  the  charity  of  native  land. 
And  in  him  that  charity  was  an  enduring  and  over- 
powering enthusiasm,  and  it  influenced  all  his  senti- 
ments and  conduct,  rendering  him  more  impartial 
between  conflicting  interests  and  sections  than  any 
other  statesman  who  has  lived  since  the  Kevolution. 
Thus  with  very  great  versatility  of  talent  and  the 
most  catholic  equality  of  favour,  he  identified  every 
question,   whether    of   domestic    administration    or 


49 

foreign  policy,  with  his  own  great  name,  and  so 
became  a  perpetual  Tribune  of  the  people.  He 
needed  only  to  pronounce  in  favour  of  a  measure  or 
against  it,  here,  and  immediately  popular  enthu- 
siasm, excited  as  by  a  magic  wand,  was  felt,  over- 
coming all  opposition  in  the  Senate  Chamber. 

In  this  way  he  wrought  a  change  in  our  political 
system,  that  I  think  was  not  foreseen  by  its  founders. 
He  converted  this  branch  of  the  Legislature  from  a 
negative  position,  or  one  of  equilibrium  between  the 
Executive  and  the  House  of  Representatives,  into 
the  active  ruling  power  of  the  Republic.  Only  time 
can  disclose  whether  this  great  innovation  shall  be 
beneficent,  or  even  permanent. 

Certainly,  sir,  the  great  lights  of  the  Senate  have 
set.  The  obscuration  is  not  less  palpable  to  the 
country  than  to  us,  who  are  left  to  grope  our  un- 
certain way  here,  as  in  a  labyrinth,  oppressed  with 
self-distrust.  The  times,  too,  present  new  embarrass- 
ments. We  are  rising  to  another  and  a  more  sub- 
lime stage  of  natural  progress, — that  of  expanding 
wealth  and  rapid  territorial  aggrandizement.  Our 
institutions  throw  a  broad  shadow  across  the  St. 
Lawrence,  and  "stretching  beyond  the  valley  of 
Mexico,  reaches  even  to  the  plains  of  Central  America; 
while  the  Sandwich  Islands  and  the  shores  of  China 
recognise  its  renovating  influence.  Wherever  that 
influence  is  felt,  a  desire  for  protection  under  those 
institutions  is   awakened.     Expansion  seems  to  be 


50 

regulated,  not  by  any  difficulties  of  resistance,  but 
by  the  moderation  which  results  from  our  own  in- 
ternal constitution.  No  one  knows  how  rapidly 
that  restraint  may  give  way.  Who  can  tell  how 
far  or  how  fast  it  ought  to  yield?  Commerce  has 
brought  the  ancient  continents  near  to  us,  and 
created  necessities  for  new  positions — perhaps  con- 
nections or  colonies  there — and  with  the  trade  and 
friendship  of  the  elder  nations  their  conflicts  and 
collisions  are  brought  to  our  doors  and  to  our  hearts. 
Our  sympathy  kindles,  our  indifference  extinguishes 
the  fire  of  freedom  in  foreign  lands.  Before  we  shall 
be  fully  conscious  that  a  change  is  going  on  in  Eu- 
rope, we  may  find  ourselves  once  more  divided  by 
that  eternal  line  of  separation  that  leaves  on  the  one 
side  those  of  our  citizens  who  obey  the  impulses  of 
sympathy,  while  on  the  other  are  found  those  who 
submit  only  to  the  counsels  of  prudence.  Even 
prudence  will  soon  be  required  to  decide  whether 
distant  regions,  East  and  West,  shall  come  under  our 
own  protection,  or  be  left  to  aggrandize  a  rapidly 
spreading  and  hostile  domain  of  despotism. 

Sir,  who  among  us  is  equal  to  these  mighty 
questions?  I  fear  there  is  no  one.  Nevertheless, 
the  example  of  Henry  Clay  remains  for  our  in- 
struction. His  genius  has  passed  to  the  realms  of 
light,  but  his  virtues  still  live  here  for  our  emulation. 
With  them  there  will  remain  also  the  protection  and 
favour  of  the  Most  High,  if  by  the  practice  of  justice 


51 

and  the  maintenance  of  freedom  we  shall  deserve  it. 
Let,  then,  the  bier  pass  on.  With  sorrow,  but  not 
without  hope,  we  will  follow  the  revered  form  that 
it  bears  to  its  final  resting  place;  and  then,  when 
that  grave  opens  at  our  feet  to  receive  such  an  in- 
estimable treasure,  we  will  invoke  the  God  of  our 
fathers  to  send  us  new  guides,  like  him  that  is  now 
withdrawn,  and  give  us  wisdom  to  obey  their  in- 
structions. 


Mr.  Jones,  of  Iowa. 
Mr.  President  :  Of  the  vast  number  who  mourn  the 
departure  of  the  great  man  whose  voice  has  so  often 
been  heard  in  this  Hall,  I  have  peculiar  cause  to 
regret  that  dispensation  which  has  removed  him 
from  among  us.  He  was  the  guardian  and  director 
of  my  collegiate  days;  four  of  his  sons  were  my 
collegemates  and  my  warm  friends.  My  intercourse 
with  the  father  was  that  of  a  youth  and  a  friendly 
adviser.  I  shall  never  cease  to  feel  grateful  to  him 
— to  his  now  heart-stricken  and  bereaved  widow 
and  children,  for  their  many  kindnesses  to  me  during 
four  or  five  years  of  my  life.  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
renewing  my  acquaintance  with  him,  first,  as  a  dele- 
gate in  Congress,  while  he  was  a  member  of  this 
body  from  1835  to  1839,  and  again  in  1848,  as  a 
member  of  this  branch  of  Congress;  and  during  the 
whole  of  which  period,  some  eight  years,  none  but 
the  most  kindly  feeling  existed  between  us. 


52 


As  an  humble  and  unimportant  Senator,  it  was 
my  fortune  to  cooperate  with  him  throughout  the 
whole  of  the  exciting  session  of  1849-50 — the  labour 
and  excitement  of  which  is  said  to  have  precipitated 
his  decease.  That  cooperation  did  not  end  with  the 
accordant  vote  on  this  floor,  but,  in  consequence  of 
the  unyielding  opposition  to  the  series  of  measures 
known  as  the  "compromise,"  extended  to  many 
private  meetings  held  by  its  friends,  at  all  of  which 
Mr.  Clay  was  present.  And  whether  in  public  or 
private  life,  he  everywhere  continued  to  inspire  me 
with  the  most  exalted  estimate  of  his  patriotism  and 
statesmanship.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  many  ardent 
appeals  he  made  to  Senators,  in  and  out  of  the  Se- 
nate, in  favour  of  the  settlement  of  our  then  unhappy 
sectional  differences. 

Immediately  after  the  close  of  that  memorable 
session  of  Congress,  during  which  the  nation  beheld 
his  great  and  almost  superhuman  efforts  upon  this 
floor  to  sustain  the  wise  counsels  of  the  "  Father  of 
his  Country,"  I  accompanied  him  home  to  Ashland, 
at  his  invitation,  to  revisit  the  place  where  my 
happiest  days  had  been  spent,  with  the  friends  who 
there  continued  to  reside.  During  that,  to  me,  most 
agreeable  and  instructive  journey,  in  many  conversa- 
tions he  evinced  the  utmost  solicitude  for  the  welfare 
and  honour  of  the  Kepublic,  all  tending  to  show  that 
he  believed  the  happiness  of  the  people  and  the 
cause  of  liberty  throughout  the  world  depended  upon 


53 

the  continuance  of  our  glorious  Union,  and  the  avoid- 
ance of  those  sectional  dissensions  which  could  but 
alienate  the  affections  of  one  portion  of  the  people 
from  another.  With  the  sincerity  and  fervour  of 
a  true  patriot,  he  warned  his  companions  in  that 
journey  to  withhold  all  aid  from  men  who  laboured, 
and  from  every  cause  which  tended,  to  sow  the  seeds 
of  disunion  in  the  land;  and  to  oppose  such,  he  de- 
clared himself  willing  to  forego  all  the  ties  and  asso- 
ciations of  mere  party. 

At  a  subsequent  period,  sir,  this  friend  of  my 
youth,  at  my  earnest  and  repeated  entreaties,  con- 
sented to  take  a  sea  voyage  from  New  York  to 
Havana.  He  remained  at  the  latter  place  a  fort- 
night, and  then  returned  by  New  Orleans  to  Ash- 
land. That  excursion  by  sea,  he  assured  me,  con- 
tributed much  to  relieve  him  from  the  sufferings 
occasioned  by  the  disease  which  has  just  terminated 
his  eventful  and  glorious  life.  Would  to  Heaven 
that  he  could  have  been  persuaded  to  abandon  his 
duties  as  a  Senator,  and  to  have  remained  during 
the  past  winter  and  spring  upon  that  Island  of  Cuba ! 
The  country  would  not  now,  perhaps,  have  been 
called  to  mourn  his  loss. 

In  some  matters  of  policy  connected  with  the  ad- 
ministration of  our  general  government,  I  have 
disagreed  with  him,  yet  the  purity  and  sincerity  of 
his  motives  I  never  doubted;  and  as  a  true  lover  of 
his  country,  as  an  honourable  and  honest  man,  I  trust 


i 


54 

his  example  will  be  reverenced  and  followed  by  the 
men  of  this,  and  of  succeeding  generations. 


Mr.  Brooke. 

Mr.  President  :  As  an  ardent,  personal  admirer 
and  political  friend  of  the  distinguished  dead,  I 
claim  the  privilege  of  adding  my  humble  tribute  of 
respect  to  his  memory,  and  of  joining  in  the  general 
expression  of  sorrow  that  has  gone  forth  from  this 
Chamber.  Death,  at  all  times,  is  an  instructive 
monitor  as  well  as  a  mpurnful  messenger ;  but  when 
his  fatal  shaft  hath  stricken  down  the  great  in  intel- 
lect and  renown,  how  doubly  impressive  the  lesson 
that  it  brings  home  to  the  heart  that  the  grave  is 
the  common  lot  of  all — the  great  leveller  of  all  earthly 
distinctions !  But  at  the  same  time  we  are  taught 
that  in  one  sense  the  good  and  great  can  never  die ; 
for  the  memory  of  their  virtues  and  their  bright  ex- 
ample will  live  through  all  coming  time  in  an  immor- 
tality that  blooms  beyond  the  grave.  The  consola- 
tion of  this  thought  may  calm  our  sorrow;  and,  in  the 
language  of  one  of  our  own  poets,  it  may  be  asked : 

"Why  weep  ye,  then,  for  him,  who  having  run 
The  bound  of  man's  appointed  years,  at  last, 
Life's  blessings  all  enjoyed,  life's  labours  done, 

Serenely  to  his  final  rest  has  pass'd ; 
While  the  soft  memory  of  his  virtues  yet 
Lingers,  like  twilight  hues  when  the  bright  sun  has  set  ?" 

It  will  be  doing  no  injustice,  sir,  to  the  living  or 
the  dead  to  say,  that  no  better  specimen  of  the  true 


American  character  can  be  found  in  our  history  than 
that  of  Mr.  Clay.  With  no  adventitious  advantages 
of  birth  or  fortune,  he  won  his  way  by  the  efforts  of 
his  own  genius  to  the  highest  distinction  and  honour. 
Ardently  attached  to  the  principles  of  civil  and  reli- 
gious liberty,  patriotism  was  with  him  both  a  pas- 
sion and  a  sentiment — a  passion  that  gave  energy 
to  his  ambition,  and  a  sentiment  that  pervaded  all 
his  thoughts  and  actions,  concentrating  them  upon 
his  country  as  the  idol  of  his  heart.  The  bold  and 
manly  frankness  in  the  expression  of  his  opinions 
which  always  characterized  him,  has  often  been  the 
subject  of  remark ;  and  in  all  his  victories  it  may  be 
truly  said  he  never  "  stooped  to  conquer."  In  his 
long  and  brilliant  political  career,  personal  considera- 
tions never  for  a  single  instant  caused  him  to  swerve 
from  the  strict  line  of  duty,  and  none  have  ever 
doubted  his  deep  sincerity  in  that  memorable  ex- 
pression to  Mr.  Preston,  "  Sir,  I  had  rather  be  right 
than  be  President." 

This  is  not  the  time  nor  occasion,  sir,  to  enter 
into  a  detail  of  the  public  services  of  Mr.  Clay,  in- 
terwoven as  they  are  with  the  history  of  the  country 
for  half  a  century ;  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  advert- 
ing to  the  last  crowning  act  of  his  glorious  life — his 
great  effort  in  the  Thirty-first  Congress  for  the  pre- 
servation of  the  peace  and  integrity  of  this  great 
Republic,  as  it  was  this  effort  that  shattered  his 
bodily  strength,  and  hastened  the  consummation  of 


56 

death.  The  Union  of  the  States,  as  heing  essential 
to  our  prosperity  and  happiness,  was  the  paramount 
proposition  in  his  political  creed,  and  the  slightest 
symptom  of  danger  to  its  perpetuity  filled  him  with 
alarm,  and  called  forth  all  the  energies  of  his  body 
and  mind.  In  his  earlier  life  he  had  met  this 
danger  and  overcome  it.  In  the  conflict  of  contend- 
ing factions  it  again  appeared ;  and  coining  forth 
from  the  repose  of  private  life,  to  which  age  and  in- 
firmity had  carried  him,  with  unabated  strength  of 
intellect,  he  again  entered  upon  the  arena  of  political 
strife,  and  again  success  crowned  his  efforts,  and 
peace  and  harmony  were  restored  to  a  distracted 
people.  But  unequal  to  the  mighty  struggle,  his 
bodily  strength  sank  beneath  it,  and  he  retired  from 
the  field  of  his  glory  to  yield  up  his  life  as  a  holy 
sacrifice  to  his  beloved  country.  It  has  well  been 
said  that  peace  has  its  victories  as  well  as  war ;  and 
how  bright  upon  the  page  of  history  will  be  the 
record  of  this  great  victory  of  intellect,  of  reason, 
and  of  moral  suasion,  over  the  spirit  of  discord  and 
sectional  animosities ! 

We  this  day,  Mr.  President,  commit  his  memory 
to  the  regard  and  affection  of  his  admiring  country- 
men. It  is  a  consolation  to  them  and  to  us  to  know 
that  he  died  in  full  possession  of  his  glorious  intel- 
lect, and,  what  is  better,  in  the  enjoyment  of  that 
"  peace  which  the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take 
away."     He  sank  to  rest  as  the  full-orbed  king  of 


57 

day,  unshorn  of  a  single  beam,  or  rather  like  the 
planet  of  morning,  his  brightness  was  but  eclipsed 
by  the  opening  to  him  of  a  more  full  and  perfect 
day— 

"  No  waning  of  fire,  no  paling  of  ray, 
But  rising,  still  rising,  as  passing  away. 
Farewell,  gallant  eagle-,  thou'rt  buried  in  light — 
God  speed  thee  to  heaven,  lost  star  of  our  night." 

The  Resolutions  submitted  by  Mr.  Underwood,  were  then 
unanimously  agreed  to. 

Ordered,  That  the  Secretary  communicate  these  Resolu- 
tions to  the  House  of  Representatives. 

On  motion  by  Mr.  Underwood, 

Resolved,  That,  as  an  additional  mark  of  respect  to  the 
memory  of  the  deceased,  the  Senate  do  now  adjourn. 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES. 


Wednesday,  June   30,  1852. 


The  Journal  of  yesterday  having  been  read, 
A  message  was   received   from  the   Senate,  by  Asbuhy 
Dickins,  Esq.,  its  Secretary,  communicating  information  of 
the  death  of  Henry  Clay,  late  Senator  from  the  State  of 
Kentucky,  and  the  proceedings  of  the  Senate  thereon. 
The  resolutions  of  the  Senate  having  been  read, 

Mr.  Breckinridge  then  rose  and  said : 

Mr.  Speaker  :  I  rise  to  perform  the  melancholy 
duty  of  announcing  to  this  body  the  death  of  Henry 
Clay,  late  a  Senator  in  Congress  from  the  Com- 
monwealth of  Kentucky. 

Mr.  Clay  expired  at  his  lodgings  in  this  city  yes- 
terday morning,  at  seventeen  minutes  past  eleven 
o'clock,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age.  His 
noble  intellect  was  unclouded  to  the  last.  After  pro- 
tracted sufferings,  he  passed  away  without  pain ;  and 

59 


60 

so  gently  did  the  spirit  leave  his  frame,  that  the  mo- 
ment of  departure  was  not  observed  by  the  friends 
who  watched  at  his  bedside.  His  last  hours  were 
cheered  by  the  presence  of  an  affectionate  son;  and 
he  died  surrounded  by  friends  who,  during  his  long 
illness,  had  done  all  that  affection  could  suggest  to 
soothe  his  sufferings. 

Although  this  sad  event  has  been  expected  for 
many  weeks,  the  shock  it  produced,  and  the  innu- 
merable tributes  of  respect  to  his  memory  exhibited 
on  every  side,  and  in  every  form,  prove  the  depth 
of  the  public  sorrow,  and  the  greatness  of  the 
public  loss. 

Imperishably  associated  as  his  name  has  been  for 
fifty  years  with  every  great  event  affecting  the  for- 
tunes of  our  country,  it  is  difficult  to  realize  that  he 
is  indeed  gone  for  ever.  It  is  difficult  to  feel  that  we 
shall  see  no  more  his  noble  form  within  these  walls 
— that  we  shall  hear  no  more  his  patriot  tones,  now 
rousing  his  countrymen  to  vindicate  their  rights 
against  a  foreign  foe,  now  imploring  them  to  preserve 
concord  among  themselves.  We  shall  see  him  no 
more.  The  memory  and  the  fruits  of  his  services 
alone  remain  to  us.  Amidst  the  general  gloom,  the 
Capitol  itself  looks  desolate,  as  if  the  genius  of  the 
place  had  departed.  Already  the  intelligence  has 
reached  almost  every  quarter  of  the  Republic,  and  a 
great  people   mourn  with  us,   to-day,  the  death  of 


61 

their  most  illustrious  citizen.  Sympathizing,  as  we 
do,  deeply,  with  his  family  and  friends,  yet  private 
affliction  is  absorbed  in  the  general  sorrow.  The 
spectacle  of  a  whole  community  lamenting  the  loss 
of  a  great  man,  is  far  more  touching  than  any  mani- 
festation of  private  grief.  In  speaking  of  a  loss 
wThich  is  national,  I  wTill  not  attempt  to  describe  the 
universal  burst  of  grief  with  which  Kentucky  will 
receive  these  tidings.  The  attempt  would  be  vain 
to  depict  the  gloom  that  will  cover  her  people,  when 
they  know  that  the  pillar  of  fire  is  removed,  which 
has  guided  their  footsteps  for  the  life  of  a  genera- 
tion. 

It  is  known  to  the  country,  that  from  the  memo- 
rable session  of  1849-50,  Mr.  Clay's  health  gradu- 
ally declined.  Although  several  years  of  his  Sena- 
torial term  remained,  he  did  not  propose  to  con- 
tinue in  the  public  service  longer  than  the  present 
session.  He  came  to  Washington  chiefly  to  defend, 
if  it  should  become  necessary,  the  measures  of  ad- 
justment, to  the  adoption  of  which  he  so  largely 
contributed;  but  the  condition  of  his  health  did  not 
allow  him,  at  any  time,  to  participate  in  the  discus- 
sions of  the  Senate.  Through  the  winter,  he  wras 
confined  almost  wholly  to  his  room,  with  slight 
changes  in  his  condition,  but  gradually  losing  the 
remnant  of  his  strength.  Through  the  long  and 
dreary  winter,  he  conversed  much  and  cheerfully 


62 


with  his  friends,  and  expressed  a  deep  interest  in  pub- 
lic affairs.  Although  he  did  not  expect  a  restora- 
tion to  health,  he  cherished  the  hope  that  the  mild 
season  of  spring  would  bring  to  him  strength  enough 
to  return  to  Ashland,  and  die  in  the  bosom  of  his 
family.  But,  alas !  spring,  that  brings  life  to  all  na- 
ture, brought  no  life  nor  hope  to  him.  After  the 
month  of  March,  his  vital  powers  rapidly  wasted, 
and  for  weeks  he  lay  patiently  awaiting  the  stroke 
of  death.  But  the  approach  of  the  destroyer  had  no 
terrors  for  him.  No  clouds  overhung  his  future. 
He  met  the  end  with  composure,  and  his  pathway 
to  the  grave  was  brightened  by  the  immortal  hopes 
which  spring  from  the  Christian  faith. 

Not  long  before  his  death,  having  just  returned 
from  Kentucky,  I  bore  to  him  a  token  of  affection 
from  his  excellent  wife.  Never  can  I  forget  his  ap- 
pearance, his  manner,  or  his  words.  After  speaking 
of  his  family,  his  friends,  and  his  country,  he  changed 
the  conversation  to  his  own  future,  and  looking  on 
me  with  his  fine  eye  undimmed,  and  his  voice  full  of 
its  original  compass  and  melody,  he  said,  "  I  am  not 
afraid  to  die,  sir.  I  have  hope,  faith,  and  some  con- 
fidence. I  do  not  think  any  man  can  be  entirely 
certain  in  regard  to  his  future  state,  but  I  have  an 
abiding  trust  in  the  merits  and  mediation  of  our  Sa- 
viour." It  will  assuage  the  grief  of  his  family  to 
know  that  he  looked  hopefully  beyond  the  tomb,  and 


63 

a  Christian  people  will  rejoice  to  liear  that  such  a 
man,  in  his  last  hours,  reposed  with  simplicity  and 
confidence  upon  the  promises  of  the  Gospel. 

It  is  the  custom,  on  occasions  like  this,  to  speak  of 
the  parentage  and  childhood  of  the  deceased,  and 
to  follow  him,  step  by  step,  through  life.  I  will  not 
attempt  to  relate  even  all  the  great  events  of  Mr. 
Clay's  life,  because  they  are  familiar  to  the  whole 
country,  and  it  would  be  needless  to  enumerate 
a  long  list  of  public  services  which  form  a  part  of 
American  history. 

Beginning  life  as  a  friendless  boy,  with  few  advan- 
tages save  those  conferred  by  nature,  while  yet  a  mi- 
nor, he  left  Virginia,  the  State  of  his  birth,  and  com- 
menced the  practice  of  law  at  Lexington,  in  Ken- 
tucky. At  a  bar  remarkable  for  its  numbers  and 
talent,  Mr.  Clay  soon  rose  to  the  first  rank.  At  a 
very  early  age  he  was  elected  from  the  county  of 
Fayette  to  the  General  Assembly  of  Kentucky,  and 
was  the  Speaker  of  that  body.  Coming  into  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States,  for  the  first  time,  in 
1806,  he  entered  upon  a  parliamentary  career,  the 
most  brilliant  and  successful  in  our  annals.  From 
that  time  he  remained  habitually  in  the  public  eye. 
As  a  Senator,  as  a  member  of  this  House  and  its 
Speaker,  as  a  representative  of  his  country  abroad, 
and  as  a  high  officer  in  the  Executive  department  of 
the  Government,  he  was  intimately  connected  for 


64 

fifty  years  with  every  great  measure  of  American 
policy.  Of  the  mere  party  measures  of  this  period, 
I  do  not  propose  to  speak.  Many  of  them  have 
passed  away,  and  are  remembered  only  as  the  occa- 
sions for  the  great  intellectual  efforts  which  marked 
their  discussion.  Concerning  others,  opinions  are 
still  divided.  They  will  go  into  history,  with  the 
reasons  on  either  side  rendered  by  the  greatest  intel- 
lects of  the  time. 

As  a  leader  in  a  deliberative  body,  Mr.  Clay  had 
no  equal  in  America.  In  him,  intellect,  person,  elo- 
quence, and  courage,  united  to  form  a  character  fit 
to  command.  He  fired  with  his  own  enthusiasm, 
and  controlled  by  his  amazing  will,  individuals  and 
masses.  No  reverse  could  crush  his  spirit,  nor  de- 
feat reduce  him  to  despair.  Equally  erect  and  daunt- 
less in  prosperity  and  adversity,  when  successful,  he 
moved  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  purposes  with 
severe  resolution;  when  defeated,  he  rallied  his  bro- 
ken bands  around  him,  and  from  his  eagle  eye  shot 
along  their  ranks  the  contagion  of  his  own  courage. 
Destined  for  a  leader,  he  everywhere  asserted  his 
destiny.  In  his  long  and  eventful  life  he  came  in 
contact  with  men  of  all  ranks  and  professions,  but 
he  never  felt  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  man 
superior  to  himself.  In  the  assemblies  of  the  peo- 
ple, at  the  bar,  in  the  Senate — everywhere  within 


m 

65 

the  circle  of  his  personal  presence  he  assumed  and 
maintained  a  position  of  preeminence. 

But  the  supremacy  of  Mr.  Clay,  as  a  party  leader, 
was  not  his  only,  nor  his  highest  title  to  renown. 
That  title  is  to  be  found  in  the  purely  patriotic  spirit 
which,  on  great  occasions,  always  signalized  his  con- 
duct. We  have  had  no  statesman,  who,  in  periods 
of  real  and  imminent  public  peril,  has  exhibited  a 
more  genuine  and  enlarged  patriotism  than  Henry 
Clay.  Whenever  a  question  presented  itself  actu- 
ally threatening  the  existence  of  the  Union,  Mr. 
Clay,  rising  above  the  passions  of  the  hour,  always 
exerted  his  powers  to  solve  it  peacefully  and  honour- 
ably. Although  more  liable  than  most  men,  from 
his  impetuous  and  ardent  nature,  to  feel  strongly  the 
passions  common  to  us  all,  it  was  his  rare  faculty  to 
be  able  to  subdue  them  in  a  great  crisis,  and  to  hold 
toward  all  sections  of  the  confederacy  the  language 
of  concord  and  brotherhood. 

Sir,  it  will  be  a  proud  pleasure  to  every  true  Ameri- 
can heart  to  remember  the  great  occasions  when  Mr. 
Clay  has  displayed  a  sublime  patriotism — when  the 
ill-temper  engendered  by  the  times,  and  the  misera- 
ble jealousies  of  the  day,  seemed  to  have  been  driven 
from  his  bosom  by  the  expulsive  power  of  nobler 
feelings — when  every  throb  of  his  heart  was  given 
to  his  country,  every  effort  of  his  intellect  dedicated 


66 

to  her  service.  Who  does  not  remember  the  three 
periods  when  the  American  system  of  Government 
was  exposed  to  its  severest  trials ;  and  who  does  not 
know  that  when  history  shall  relate  the  struggle 
which  preceded,  and  the  dangers  which  were  averted 
by  the  Missouri  compromise,  the  Tariff  compro- 
mise of  1832,  and  the  adjustment  of  1850,  the  same 
pages  will  record  the  genius,  the  eloquence,  and  the 
patriotism  of  Henry  Clay? 

Nor  was  it  in  Mr.  Clay's  nature  to  lag  behind  un- 
til measures  of  adjustment  were  matured,  and  then 
come  forward  to  swell  a  majority.  On  the  contrary, 
like  a  bold  and  real  statesman,  he  was  ever  among 
the  first  to  meet  the  peril,  and  hazard  his  fame  upon 
the  remedy.  It  is  fresh  in  the  memory  of  us  all  that, 
when  lately  the  fury  of  sectional  discord  threatened 
to  sever  the  confederacy,  Mr.  Clay,  though  with- 
drawn from  public  life,  and  oppressed  by  the  burden 
of  years,  came  back  to  the  Senate — the  theatre  of  his 
glory — and  devoted  the  remnant  of  his  strength  to 
the  sacred  duty  of  preserving  the  union  of  the  States. 

With  characteristic  courage  he  took  the  lead  in 
proposing  a  scheme  of  settlement.  But  while  he 
was  willing  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  propos- 
ing a  plan,  he  did  not,  with  petty  ambition,  insist 
upon  its  adoption  to  the  exclusion  of  other  modes; 
but,  taking  his  own  as  a  starting  point  for  discussion 
and  practical  action,  he  nobly  laboured  with  his  com- 


67 

patriots  to  change  and  improve  it  in  such  form  as  to 
make  it  an  acceptable  adjustment.  Throughout  the 
long  and  arduous  struggle,  the  love  of  country  ex- 
pelled from  his  bosom  the  spirit  of  selfishness,  and 
Mr.  Clay  proved,  for  the  third  time,  that  though  he 
was  ambitious  and  loved  glory,  he  had  no  ambition 
to  mount  to  fame  on  the  confusions  of  his  country. 
And  this  conviction  is  lodged  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people ;  the  party  measures  and  the  party  passions 
of  former  times  have  not,  for  several  years,  inter- 
posed between  Mr.  Clay  and  the  masses  of  his  coun- 
trymen. After  1850,  he  seemed  to  feel  that  his  mis- 
sion was  accomplished;  and,  during  the  same  period, 
the  regards  and  affections  of  the  American  people 
have  been  attracted  to  him  in  a  remarkable  degree. 
For  many  months,  the  warmest  feelings,  the  deepest 
anxieties  of  all  parties,  centered  upon  the  dying 
statesman ;  the  glory  of  his  great  actions  shed  a  mel- 
low lustre  on  his  declining  years;  and  to  fill  the  mea- 
sure of  his  fame,  his  countrymen,  weaving  for  him 
the  laurel  wreath,  with  common  hands,  did  bind  it 
about  his  venerable  brows,  and  send  him  crowned,  to 
history. 

The  life  of  Mr.  Clay,  sir,  is  a  striking  example  of 
the  abiding  fame  which  surely  awaits  the  direct  and 
candid  statesman.  The  entire  absence  of  equivoca- 
tion or  disguise,  in  all  his  acts,  was  his  master-key 
to  the  popular  heart ;  for  while  the  people  will  for- 


68 

give  the  errors  of  a  bold  and  open  nature,  he  sins 
past  forgiveness,  who  deliberately  deceives  them. 
Hence  Mr.  Clay,  though  often  defeated  in  his  mea- 
sures of  policy,  always  secured  the  respect  of  his  op- 
ponents without  losing  the  confidence  of  his  friends. 
He  never  paltered  in  a  double  sense.  The  country 
was  never  in  doubt  as  to  his  opinions  or  his  purposes. 
In  all  the  contests  of  his  time,  his  position  on  great 
public  questions,  was  as  clear  as  the  sun  in  a  cloudless 
sky.  Sir,  standing  by  the  grave  of  this  great  man, 
and  considering  these  things,  how  contemptible  does 
appear  the  mere  legerdemain  of  politics !  What  a  re- 
proach is  his  life  on  that  false  policy  which  would 
trifle  with  a  great  and  upright  people  !  If  I  were  to 
write  his  epitaph,  I  would  inscribe,  as  the  highest 
eulogy,  on  the  stone  which  shall  mark  his  resting- 
place,  "Here  lies  a  man  who  was  in  the  public  ser- 
vice for  fifty  years,  and  never  attempted  to  deceive 
his  countrymen." 

While  the  youth  of  America  should  imitate  his 
noble  qualities,  they  may  take  courage  from  his  ca- 
reer, and  note  the  high  proof  it  affords  that,  under 
our  equal  institutions,  the  avenues  to  honour  are  open 
to  all.  Mr.  Clay  rose  by  the  force  of  his  own  ge- 
nius, unaided  by  power,  patronage,  or  wealth.  At 
an  age  when  our  young  men  are  usually  advanced 
to  the  fyigher  schools  of  learning,  provided  only  with 
the  rudiments  of  an  English  education,  he  turned 


69 

his  steps  to  the  West,  and  amidst  the  rude  collisions 
of  a  border-life,  matured  a  character  whose  highest 
exhibitions  were  destined  to  mark  eras  in  his  coun- 
try's history.  Beginning  on  the  frontiers  of  Ameri- 
can civilization,  the  orphan  boy,  supported  only  by 
the  consciousness  of  his  own  powers,  and  by  the  con- 
fidence of  the  people,  surmounted  all  the  barriers  of 
adverse  fortune,  and  won  a  glorious  name  in  the  an- 
nals of  his  country.  Let  the  generous  youth,  fired 
with  honourable  ambition,  remember  that  the  Ame- 
rican system  of  government  offers  on  every  hand 
bounties  to  merit.  If,  like  Clay,  orphanage,  obscu- 
rity, poverty,  shall  oppress  him;  yet  if,  like  Clay, 
he  feels  the  Promethean  spark  within,  let  him  re- 
member that  his  country,  like  a  generous  mother, 
extends  her  arms  to  welcome  and  to  cherish  every 
one  of  her  children  whose  genius  and  worth  may 
promote  her  prosperity  or  increase  her  renown. 

Mr.  Speaker,  the  signs  of  woe  around  us,  and  the 
general  voice,  announce  that  another  great  man  has 
fallen.  Our  consolation  is  that  he  was  not  taken  in 
the  vigour  of  his  manhood,  but  sank  into  the  grave 
at  the  close  of  a  long  and  illustrious  career.  The 
great  statesmen  who  have  filled  the  largest  space  in 
the  public  eye,  one  by  one  are  passing  away.  Of 
the  three  great  leaders  of  the  Senate,  one  alone  re- 
mains, and  he  must  follow  soon.  We  shall  witness 
no  more  their  intellectual  struggles  in  the  American 


70 


Forum ;  but  the  monuments  of  their  genius  will  be 
cherished  as  the  common  property  of  the  people,  and 
their  names  will  continue  to  confer  dignity  and  re- 
nown upon  their  country. 

Not  less  illustrious  than  the  greatest  of  these  will 
be  the  name  of  Clay— a  name  pronounced  with 
pride  by  Americans  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe ; 
a  name  to  be  remembered  while  history  shall  record 
the  struggles  of  modern  Greece  for  freedom,  or  the 
spirit  of  liberty  burn  in  the  South  American  bosom ; 
a  living  and  immortal  name — a  name  that  would 
descend  to  posterity  without  the  aid  of  letters,  borne 
by  tradition  from  generation  to  generation.  Every 
memorial  of  such  a  man  will  possess  a  meaning  and 
a  value  to  his  countrymen.  His  tomb  will  be  a  hal- 
lowed spot.  Great  memories  will  cluster  there,  and 
his  countrymen,  as  they  visit  it,  may  well  exclaim — 

"  Such  graves  as  his  are  pilgrim  shrines, 
Shrines  to  no  creed  or  code  confined ; 
The  Delphian  vales,  the  Palestines, 
The  Meccas  of  the  mind." 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  offer  the  following  resolutions  : 

Resolved,  That  the  House  of  Representatives  of  the 
United  States  has  received,  with  the  deepest  sensibility,  in- 
telligence of  the  death  of  Henry  Clay. 

Resolved,  That  the  officers  and  members  of  the  House  of 
Representatives  will  wear  the  usual  badge  of  mourning  for 
thirty  days,  as  a  testimony  of  the  profound  respect  this 
House  entertains  for  the  memory  of  the  deceased. 


71 

Resolved,  That  the  officers  and  members  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  in  a  body,  will  attend  the  funeral  of 
Henry  Clay,  on  the  day  appointed  for  that  purpose  by  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States. 

Resolved,  That  the  proceedings  of  this  House,  in  relation 
to  the  death  of  Henry  Clay,  be  communicated  to  the  family 
of  the  deceased  by  the  Clerk. 

Resolved,  That  as  a  further  mark  of  respect  for  the  me- 
mory of  the  deceased,  this  House  do  now  adjourn. 

Mr.  Ewlng  rose  and  said : 

A  noble  heart  has  ceased  to  beat  for  ever.  A  long 
life  of  brilliant  and  self-devoted  public  service  is 
finished  at  last.  We  now  stand  at  its  conclusion 
looking  back  through  the  changeful  history  of  that 
life  to  its  beginning,  contemporaneous  with  the  very 
birth  of  the  Kepublic,  and  its  varied  events  mingle, 
in  our  hearts  and  our  memories,  with  the  triumphs 
and  calamities,  the  weakness  and  the  power,  the 
adversity  and  prosperity  of  a  country  we  love  so 
much.  As  we  contemplate  this  sad  event,  in  this 
place,  the  shadows  of  the  past  gather  over  us;  the 
memories  of  events  long  gone  crowd  upon  us,  and 
the  shades  of  departed  patriots  seem  to  hover  about 
us,  and  wait  to  receive  into  their  midst  the  spirit  of 
one  who  was  worthy  to  be  a  colabourer  with  them 
in  a  common  cause,  and  to  share  in  the  rewards  of 
their  virtues.  Henceforth  he  must  be  to  us  as  one 
of  them. 


72 

They  say  he  was  ambitious.  If  so,  it  was  a 
grievous  fault,  and  grievously  has  he  answered  it. 
He  has  found  in  it  naught  but  disappointment.  It 
has  but  served  to  aggravate  the  mortification  of  his 
defeats,  and  furnish  an  additional  lustre  to  the 
triumph  of  his  foes.  Those  who  come  after  us  may, 
ay,  they  will,  inquire  why  his  statue  stands  not 
among  the  statues  of  those  whom  men  thought 
ablest  and  worthiest  to  govern. 

But  his  ambition  was  a  high  and  holy  feeling,  un- 
selfish, magnanimous.  Its  aspirations  were  for  his 
country's  good,  and  its  triumph  was  his  country's 
prosperity.  Whether  in  honour  or  reproach,  in 
triumph  or  defeat,  that  heart  of  his  never  throbbed 
with  one  pulsation  save  for  her  honour  and  her 
welfare.  Turn  to  him  in  that  last  best  deed,  and 
crowning  glory  of  a  life  so  full  of  public  service  and 
of  honour,  when  his  career  of  personal  ambition  was 
finished  for  ever.  Rejected  again  and  again  by  his 
countrymen;  just  abandoned  by  a  party  which 
would  scarce  have  had  an  existence  without  his 
genius,  his  courage,  and  his  labours,  that  great  heart, 
ever  firm  and  defiant  to  the  assaults  of  his  enemies, 
but  defenceless  against  the  ingratitude  of  friends, 
doubtless  wrung  with  the  bitterest  mortification  of 
his  life — then  it  was,  and  under  such  circumstances 
as  these,  the  gathering  storm  rose  upon  his  country. 
All  eyes  turned  to  him;  all  voices  called  for  those 
services  which,  in  the  hour  of  prosperity  and  se- 


73 

curity,  they  had  so  carelessly  rejected.  With  no 
misanthropic  chagrin;  with  no  morose,  selfish  re- 
sentment, he  forgot  all  but  his  country  and  that 
country  endangered.  He  returns  to  the  scene  of  his 
labours  and  his  fame  which  he  had  thought  to 
have  left  for  ever.  A  scene — that  American  Senate 
Chamber — clothed  in  no  gorgeous  drapery,  shrouded 
in  no  superstitious  awe  or  ancient  reverence  for 
hereditary  power,  but  to  a  reflecting  American  mind 
more  full  of  interest,  or  dignity,  and  of  grandeur 
than  any  spot  on  this  broad  earth,  not  made  holy 
by  religion's  consecrating  seal.  See  him  as  he 
enters  there,  tremblingly,  but  hopefully,  upon  the 
last,  most  momentous,  perhaps  most  doubtful  conflict 
of  his  life.  Sir,  many  a  gay  tournament  has  been 
more  dazzling  to  the  eye  of  fancy,  more  gorgeous 
and  imposing  in  the  display  of  jewelry  and  cloth  of 
gold,  in  the  sound  of  heralds'  trumpets,  in  the  grand 
array  of  princely  beauty  and  of  royal  pride.  Many 
a  battle-field  has  trembled  beneath  a  more  ostenta- 
tious parade  of  human  power,  and  its  conquerors 
have  been  crowned  with  laurels,  honoured  with 
triumphs,  and  apotheosised  amid  the  demigods  of 
history;  but  to  the  thoughtful,  hopeful,  philanthropic 
student  of  the  annals  of  his  race,  never  was  there  a 
conflict  in  which  such  dangers  were  threatened,  such 
hopes  imperiled,  or  the  hero  of  which  deserved  a 
warmer  gratitude,  a  nobler  triumph,  or  a  prouder 
monument. 


74 

Sir,  from  that  long,  anxious,  and  exhausting  con- 
flict, he  never  rose  again.  In  that  last  battle  for  his 
country's  honour  and  his  country's  safety,  he  received 
the  mortal  wound  which  laid  him  low,  and  we  now 
mourn  the  death  of  a  martyred  patriot. 

But  never,  in  all  the  grand  drama  which  the  story 
of  his  life  arrays,  never  has  he  presented  a  sublimer 
or  a  more  touching  spectacle  than  in  those  last  days 
of  his  decline  and  death.  Broken  with  the  storms 
of  State,  wounded  and  scathed  in  many  a  fiery  con- 
flict, that  aged,  worn,  and  decayed  body,  in  such 
mournful  contrast  with  the  never-dying  strength  of 
his  giant  spirit,  he  seemed  a  proud  and  sacred, 
though  a  crumbling  monument  of  past  glory.  Stand- 
ing among  us,  like  some  ancient  colossal  ruin  amid 
the  degenerate  and  more  diminutive  structures  of 
modern  times,  its  vast  proportions  magnified  by  the 
contrast,  he  reminded  us  of  those  days  when  there 
were  giants  in  the  land,  and  we  remembered  that 
even  then  there  was  none  whose  prowess  could  with- 
stand his  arm.  To  watch  him  in  that  slow  decline, 
yielding  with  dignity,  and  as  it  were  inch  by  inch, 
to  that  last  enemy,  as  a  hero  yields  to  a  conquering 
foe,  the  glorious  light  of  his  intellect  blazing  still  in 
all  its  wonted  brilliancy,  and  setting  at  defiance  the 
clouds  that  vainly  attempted  to  obscure  it,  he  was 
more  full  of  interest  than  in  the  day  of  his  glory 
and  his  power.  There  are  some  men  whose  brightest 
intellectual  emanations  rise  so  little  superior  to  the 


75 

instincts  of  the  animal,  that  we  are  led  fearfully  to 
doubt  that  cherished  truth  of  the  soul's  immortality, 
which,  even  in  despair,  men  press  to  their. doubting 
hearts.  But  it  is  in  the  death  of  such  a  man  as  he 
that  we  are  reassured  by  the  contemplation,  of  a 
kindred,  though  superior  spirit,  of  a  soul  which,  im- 
mortal, like  his  fame,  knows  no  old  age,  no  decay, 
no  death. 

The  wondrous  light  of  his  unmatched  intellect 
may  have  dazzled  a  world;  the  eloquence  of  that 
inspired  tongue  may  have  enchanted  millions,  but 
there  are  few  who  have  sounded  the  depths  of  that 
noble  heart.  To  see  him  in  sickness  and  in  health, 
in  joy  and  in  sadness,  in  the  silent  watches  of  the 
night  and  in  the  busy  daytime — this  it  was  to  know 
and  love  him.  To  see  the  impetuous  torrent  of  that 
resistless  will;  the  hurricane  of  those  passions  hushed 
in  peace,  breathe  calm  and  gently  as  a  summer 
zephyr;  to  feel  the  gentle  pressure  of  that  hand  in 
the  grasp  of  friendship  which  in  the  rage  of  fiery 
conflict  would  hurl  scorn  and  defiance  at  his  foe; 
to  see  that  eagle  eye  which  oft  would  burn  with 
patriotic  ardour,  or  flash  with  the  lightning  of  his 
anger,  beam  with  the  kindliest  expressions  of  tender- 
ness and  affection — then  it  was,  and  then  alone,  we 
could  learn  to  know  and  feel  that  that  heart  was 
warmed  by  the  same  sacred  fire  from  above  which 
enkindled  the  light  of  his  resplendent  intellect.  In 
the  death  of  such  a  man  even  patriotism  itself  might 


76 

pause,  and  for  a  moment  stand  aloof  while  friend- 
ship shed  a  tear  of  sorrow  upon  his  bier. 

"  His  life  was  gentle ;  and  the  elements 
So  mix'd  in  him,  that  Nature  might  stand  up 
And  say  to  all  the  world,  This  was  a  man!" 

But  who  can  estimate  his  country's  loss  ?  What 
tongue  portray  the  desolation  which  in  this  hour 
throughout  this  broad  land  hangs  like  a  gloomy  pall 
over  his  grief-stricken  countrymen?  How  poorly 
can  words  like  mine  translate  the  eloquence  of  a 
whole  people's  grief  for  a  patriot's  death.  For  a 
nation's  loss  let  a  nation  mourn.  For  that  stu- 
pendous calamity  to  our  country  and  mankind,  be 
the  heavens  hung  with  black;  let  the  wailing  ele- 
ments chant  his  dirge,  and  the  universal  heart  of 
man  throb  with  one  common  pang  of  grief  and 
anguish. 

Mr.  Caskie  said : — 
Mr.  Speaker  :  Unwell  as  I  am,  I  must  try  to  lay  a 
single  laurel  leaf  in  that  open  coffin  which  is  already 
garlanded  by  the  eloquent  tributes  to  the  illustrious 
departed,  which  have  been  heard  in  this  now  solemn 
Hall, — for  I  come,  sir,  from  the  district  of  his  birth. 
I  represent  on  this  floor  that  old  Hanover  so  proud  of 
her  Henrys — her  Patrick  Henry  and  her  Henry 
Clay.  I  speak  for  a  people  among  whom  he  has 
always  had  as  earnest  and  devoted  friends  as  were 
ever  the  grace  and  glory  of  a  patriot  and  statesman. 


77 

I  shall  attempt  no  sketch  of  his  life.  That  you 
have  had  from  other  and  abler  hands  than  mine. 
Till  yesterday  that  life  was,  of  his  own  free  gift,  the 
property  of  his  country;  to-day  it  belongs  to  her 
history.  It  is  known  to  all,  and  will  not  be  for- 
gotten. Constant,  stern  opponent  of  his  political 
school  as  has  been  my  State,  I  say  for  her,  that  no- 
where in  this  broad  land  are  his  great  qualities  more 
admired,  or  his  death  more  mourned,  than  in  Vir- 
ginia. Well  may  this  be  so ;  for  she  is  his  mother, 
and  he  was  her  son. 

Mr.  Speaker,  when  I  remember  the  party  strifes 
in  which  he  was  so  much  mingled,  and  through 
which  we  all  more  or  less  have  passed,  and  then 
survey  this  scene,  and  think  how  far,  as  the  light- 
ning has  borne  the  news  that  he  is  gone,  half-masted 
flags  are  drooping  and  church  bells  are  tolling,  and 
men  are  sorrowing,  I  can  but  feel  that  it  is  good  for 
man  to  die.  For  when  Death  enters,  oh  !  how  the 
unkindnesses,  and  jealousies,  and  rivalries  of  life  do 
vanish,  and  how  like  incense  from  an  altar  do  peace, 
and  friendship,  and  all  the  sweet  charities  of  our 
nature,  rise  around  the  corpse  which  was  once  a 
man !  And  of  a  truth,  Mr.  Speaker,  never  was  more 
of  veritable  noble  manhood  cased  in  mortal  mould 
than  was  found  in  him  to  whose  memory  this  brief 
and  humble,  but  true  and  heartfelt  tribute  is  paid. 
But  his  eloquent  voice  is  hushed,  his  high  heart  is 
stilled.     "Like  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe,  he  has 


78 

been  gathered  to  his  fathers."  With  more  than 
three  score  years  and  ten  upon  him,  and  honours 
clustered  thick  about  him,  in  the  full  possession  of 
unclouded  intellect,  and  all  the  consolations  of  Chris- 
tianity, he  has  met  the  fate  which  is  evitable  by 
none.  Lamented  by  all  his  countrymen,  his  name 
is  bright  on  Fame's  immortal  roll.  He  has  finished 
his  course,  and  he  has  his  crown.  What  more  fruit 
can  life  bear  ?  What  can  it  give  that  Henry  Clay 
has  not  gained  ? 

Then,  Mr.  Speaker,  around  his  tomb  should  be 
heard  not  only  the  dirge  that  wails  his  loss,  but  the 
jubilant  anthem  which  sounds  that  on  the  world's 
battle-field  another  victory  has  been  won — another 
incontestable  greatness  achieved. 

Mr.  Chandler,  of  Pennsylvania,  said : — 

Mr.  Speaker  :  It  would  seem  as  if  the  solemn  invo- 
cation of  the  honourable  .  gentleman  from  Kentucky 
(Mr.  Ewing)  was  receiving  an  early  answer,  and 
that  the  heavens  are  hung  in  black,  and  the  wailing 
elements  are  singing  the  .  funeral  dirge  of  Henry 
Clay.  Amid  this  elemental  gloom,  and  the  distress 
which  pervades  the  nation  at  the  death  of  Henry 
Clay,  private  grief  should  not  obtrude  itself  upon 
notice,  nor  personal  anguish  seek  for  utterance. 
Silence  is  the  best  exponent  of  individual  sorrow, 
and  the  heart  that  knoweth  its  own  bitterness 
shrinks  from  an  exposition  of  its  affliction. 


79 

Could  I  have  consulted  my  own  feelings  on  the 
event  which,  occupies  the  attention  of  the  House  at 
the  present,  moment,  I  should  even  have  forborne 
attendance  here,  and  in  the  solitude  and  silence  of 
my  chamber  have  mused  upon  the  terrible  lesson 
which  has  been  administered  to  the  people  and  the 
nation.  But  I  represent  a  constituency  who  justly 
pride  themselves  upon  the  unwavering  attachment 
they  have  ever  felt  and  manifested  to  Henry  Clay 
— a  constant,  pervading,  hereditary  love.  The  son 
has  taken  up  the  father's  affection,  and  amid  all  the 
professions  of  political  attachments  to  others,  whom 
the  accidents  of  party  have  made  prominent,  and 
the  success  of  party  has  made  powerful,  true  to  his 
own  instincts,  and  true  to  the  sanctified  legacy  of 
his  father,  he  has  placed  the  name  of  Henry  Clay 
forward  and  pre-eminent  as  the  exponent  of  what  is 
greatest  in  statesmanship  and  purest  in  patriotism. 
And  even,  sir,  when  party  fealty  caused  other  at- 
tachments to  be  avowed  for  party  uses,  the  pre- 
ference was  limited  to  the  occupancy  of  office,  and 
superiority  admitted  for  Clay  in  all  that  is  reckoned 
above  party  estimation. 

Nor  ought  I  to  forbear  to  add  that,  as  the  senior 
member  of  the  delegation  which  represents  my  Com- 
monwealth, I  am  requested  to  utter  the  sentiments 
of  the  people  of  Pennsylvania  at  large,  who  yield  to 
no  portion  of  this  great  Union  in  their  appreciation 
of  the  talents,  their  reverence  for  the  lofty  patriot- 


, 


80 

ism,  their  admiration  of  the  statesmanship,  and  here- 
after their  love  of  the  memory  of  Henry  Clay. 

I  cannot,  therefore,  be  silent  on  this  occasion  with- 
out injustice  to  the  affections  of  my  constituency, 
even  though  I  painfully  feel  how  inadequate  to  the 
reverence  and  love  my  people  have  toward  that 
statesman  must  be  all  that  I  have  to  utter  on  this 
mournful  occasion. 

I  know  not,  Mr.  Chairman,  where  now  the  nation 
is  to  find  the  men  she  needs  in  peril ;  either  other 
calls  than  those  of  politics  are  holding  in  abeyance 
the  talents  which  the  nation  may  need,  or  else  a 
generation  is  to  pass  undistinguished  by  the  great- 
ness of  our  statesmen.  Of  the  noble  minds  that 
have  swayed  the  Senate  one  yet  survives  in  the 
maturity  of  powerful  intellect,  carefully  disciplined 
and  nobly  exercised.  May  He  who  has  thus  far 
blessed  our  nation,  spare  to  her  and  the  world  that 
of  which  the  world  must  always  envy  our  country 
the  possession !     But  my  business  is  with  the  dead. 

The  biography  of  Henry  Clay,  from  his  child- 
hood upward,  is  too  familiar  to  every  American  for 
me  to  trespass  on  the  time  of  this  House  by  a  re- 
ference directly  thereto ;  and  the  honourable  gentle- 
men who  have  preceded  me  have,  with  affectionate 
hand  and  appropriate  delicacy,  swept  away  the  dust 
which  nearly  fourscore  years  have  scattered  over  a 
part  of  the  record,  and  have  made  our  pride  greater 
in  his  life,  and  our  grief  more  poignant  at  his  death, 


81 

by  showing  some  of  those  passages  which  attract 
respect  to  our  republican  institutions,  of  which  Mr. 
Clay's  whole  life  was  the  able  support  and  the  most 
successful  illustration. 

It  would,  then,  be  a  work  of  supererogation  for 
me  to  renew  that  effort,  though  inquiry  into  the  life 
and  conduct  of  Henry  Clay  would  present  new 
themes  for  private  eulogy,  new  grounds  for  public 
gratitude. 

How  rare  is  it,  Mr.  Speaker,  that  the  great  man, 
living,  can  with  confidence  rely  on  extensive  per- 
sonal friendship,  or  dying,  think  to  awaken  a  senti- 
ment of  regret  beyond  that  which  includes  the  public 
loss  or  the  disappointment  of  individual  hopes.  Yet, 
sir,  the  message  which  yesterday  went  forth  from 
this  city  that  Henry  Clay  was  dead,  brought  sorrow, 
personal,  private,  special  sorrow,  to  the  hearts  of 
thousands;  each  of  whom  felt  that  from  his  own 
love  for,  his  long  attachment  to,  his  disinterested 
hopes  in  Henry  Clay,  he  had  a  particular  sorrow  to 
cherish  and  express,  which  weighed  upon  his  heart 
separate  from  the  sense  of  national  loss. 

No  man,  Mr.  Speaker,  in  our  nation  had  the  art 
so  to  identify  himself  with  public  measures  of  the 
most  momentous  character,  and  to  maintain  at  the 
same  time  almost  universal  affection,  like  that  great 
statesman.  His  business,  from  his  boyhood,  was 
with  national  concerns,  and  he  dealt  with  them  as 
with  familiar  things.     And  yet  his  sympathies  were 


82 

with  individual  interests,  enterprises,  affections,  joys, 
and  sorrows;  and  while  every  patriot  bowed  in 
humble  deference  to  his  lofty  attainments  and  heart- 
felt gratitude  for  his  national  services,  almost  every 
man  in  this  vast  Eepublic  knew  that  the  great 
statesman  was,  in  feeling  and  experience,  identified 
with  his  own  position.  Hence  the  universal  love  of 
the  people ;  hence  their  enthusiasm  in  all  times  for 
his  fame.     Hence,  sir,  their  present  grief. 

Many  other  public  men  of  our  country  have  dis- 
tinguished themselves  and  brought  honour  to  the 
nation  by  superiority  in  some  peculiar  branch  of 
public  service,  but  it  seems  to  have  been  the  gift  of 
Mr.  Clay  to  have  acquired  peculiar  eminence  in 
every  path  of  duty  he  was  called  to  tread.  In  the 
earnestness  of  debate,  which  great  public  interests 
and  distinguished  opposing  talents  excited  in  this 
House,  he  had  no  superior  in  energy,  force,  or  effect. 
Yet,  as  the  presiding  officer,  by  blandness  of  language 
and  firmness  of  purpose,  he  soothed  and  made  orderly; 
and  thus,  by  official  dignity,  he  commanded  the  re- 
spect which  energy  had  secured  to  him  on  the  floor. 

Wherever  official  or  social1  duties  demanded  an 
exercise  of  his  power  there  was  a  pre-eminence  which 
seemed  prescriptively  his  own.  In  the  lofty  debate 
of  the  Senate  and  the  stirring  harangues  to  popular 
assemblages,  he  was  the  orator  of  the  nation  and  of 
the  people;  and  the  sincerity  of  purpose  and  the 
unity  of  design  evinced  in  all  he  said  or  did,  fixed 


83 

in  the  public  mind  a  confidence  strong  and  expansive 
as  the  affections  he  had  won. 

Year  after  year,  sir,  has  Henry  Clay  been  achiev- 
ing the  work  of  the  mission  with  which  he  was  in- 
trusted ;  and  it  was  only  when  the  warmest  wishes 
of  his  warmest  friends  were  disappointed,  that  he 
entered  on  the  fruition  of  a  patriot's  highest  hopes, 
and  stood  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  that  admiration 
and  confidence  which  nothing  but  the  antagonism 
of  party  relations  could  have  divided. 

How  rich  that  enjoyment  must  have  been  it  is 
only  for  us  to  imagine.  How  eminently  deserved  it 
was  we  and  the  world  can  attest. 

The  love  and  the  devotion  of  his  political  friends 
were  cheering  and  grateful  to  his  heart,  and  were 
acknowledged  in  all  his  life — were  recognised  even 
to  his  death. 

The  contest  in  the  Senate  Chamber  or  the  forum 
were  rewarded  with  success  achieved,  and  the  great 
victor  could  enjoy  the  ovation  which  partial  friend- 
ship or  the  gratitude  of  the  benefit  prepared.  But 
the  triumph  of  his  life  was  no  party  achievement. 
It  was  not  in  the  applause  which  admiring  friends 
and  defeated  antagonists  offered  to  his  measureless 
success,  that  he  found  the  reward  of  his  labours,  and 
comprehended  the  extent  of  his  mission. 

It  was  only  when  friends  and  antagonists  paused 
in  their  contests,  appalled  at  the  public  difficulties 
and  national  dangers  which  had  been  accumulating, 


84 

unseen  and  unregarded ;  it  was  only  when  the  nation 
itself  felt  the  danger,  and  acknowledged  the  inefficacy 
of  party  action  as  a  remedy,  that  Henry  Clay  calcu- 
lated the  full  extent  of  his  powers,  and  enjoyed  the 
reward  of  their  saving  exercise.  Then,  sir,  you 
saw,  and  I  saw,  party  designations  dropped,  and 
party  allegiance  disavowed,  and  anxious  patriots,  of 
all  localities  and  name,  turn  toward  the  country's 
benefactor  as  the  man  for  the  terrible  exigencies  of 
the  hour ;  and  the  sick  chamber  of  Henry  Clay  be- 
came the  Delphos  whence  were  given  out  the  oracles 
that  presented  the  means  and  the  measures  of  our 
Union's  safety.  There,  sir,  and  not  in  the  high 
places  of  the  country,  were  the  labours  and  sacrifices 
of  half  a  century  to  be  rewarded  and  closed.  With 
his  right  yet  in  that  Senate  which  he  had  entered 
the  youngest,  and  lingered  still  the  eldest  member, 
he  felt  that  his  work  was  done,  and  the  object  of  his 
life  accomplished.  Every  cloud  that  had  dimmed 
the  noonday  lustre  had  been  dissipated ;  and  the  re- 
tiring orb,  which  sunk  from  the  sight  of  the  nation 
in  fullness  and  in  beauty,  will  yet  pour  up  the  hori- 
zon a  posthumous  glory  that  shall  tell  of  the  splen- 
dour and  greatness  of  the  luminary  that  has  passed 
away. 


85 

Mr.  Bayly,  of  Virginia. 

Mr.  Speaker  :  Although  I  have  been  all  my  life  a 
political  opponent  of  Mr.  Clay,  yet  from  my  boyhood 
I  have  been  upon  terms  of  personal  friendship  with 
him.  More  than  twenty  years  ago,  I  was  introduced 
to  him  by  my  father,  who  was  his  personal  friend. 
From  that  time  to  this,  there  has  existed  between 
us  as  great  personal  intimacy  as  the  disparity  in  our 
years  and  our  political  difference  would  justify. 
After  I  became  a  member  of  this  House,  and  upon 
his  return  to  the  Senate,  subsequent  to  his  resigna- 
tion in  1842,  the  warm  regard  upon  his  part  for  the 
daughter  of  a  devoted  friend  of  forty  years'  standing, 
made  him  a  constant  visitor  at  my  house,  and  fre- 
quently a  guest  at  my  table.  These  circumstances 
make  it  proper,  that  upon  this  occasion,  I  should  pay 
this  last  tribute  to  his  memory.  I  not  only  knew 
him  well  as  a  statesman,  but  I  knew  him  better  in 
most  unreserved  social  intercourse.  The  most  happy 
circumstance,  as  I  esteem  it,  of  my  political  life  has 
been,  that  I  have  thus  known  each  of  our  great  Con- 
gressional triumvirate. 

I,  sir,  never  knew  a  man  of  higher  qualities  than 
Mr.  Clay.  His  very  faults  originated  in  high 
qualities.  With  as  great  self-possession,  with  greater 
self-reliance  than  any  man  I  ever  knew,  he  possessed 
moral  and  physical  courage  to  as  high  a  degree  as 
any  man  who  ever  lived.  Confident  in  his  own 
judgment,  never   doubting   as   to   his  own   course, 


86 

fearing  no  obstacle  that  might  lie  in  his  way,  it  was 
almost  impossible  that  he  should  not  have  been  im- 
perious in  his  character.  Never  doubting  himself  as 
to  what,  in  his  opinion,  duty  and  patriotism  required 
at  his  hands,  it  was  natural  that  he  should  sometimes 
have  been  impatient  with  those  more  doubting  and 
timid  than  himself.  His  were  qualities  to  have 
made  a  great  general,  as  they  were  qualities  that 
did  make  him  a  great  statesman,  and  these  qualities 
were  so  obvious  that  during  the  darkest  period  of 
our  late  war  with  Great  Britain,  Mr.  Madison  had 
determined,  at  one  time,  to  make  him  General-in- 
Chief  of  the  American  army. 

Sir,  it  is  but  a  short  time  since  the  American 
Congress  buried  the  first  one  that  went  to  the  grave 
of  that  great  triumvirate.  We  are  now  called  upon 
to  bury  another.  The  third,  thank  God!  still  lives, 
and  long  may  he  live  to  enlighten  his  countrymen 
by  his  wisdom,  and  set  them  the  example  of  exalted 
patriotism.  Sir,  in  the  lives  and  characters  of  these 
great  men,  there  is  much  resembling  those  of  the 
great  triumvirate  of  the  British  Parliament.  It 
differs  principally  in  this :  Burke  preceded  Fox  and 
Pitt  to  the  tomb.  Webster  survives  Clay  and  Cal- 
houn. When  Fox  and  Pitt  died,  they  left  no 
peer  behind  them.  Webster  still  lives,  now  that 
Calhoun  and  Clay  are  dead,  the  unrivalled  states- 
man of  his  country.  Like  Fox  and  Pitt,  Clay  and 
Calhoun   lived  in  troubled   times.     Like  Fox   and 


87 

Pitt  they  were  each  of  them  the  leader  of  rival 
parties.  Like  Fox  and  Pitt  they  were  idolized  by 
their  respective  friends.  Like  Fox  and  Pitt,  they 
died  about  the  same  time,  and  in  the  public  service ; 
and  as  has  been  said  of  Fox  and  Pitt,  Clay  and  Cal- 
houn died  with  "their  harness  upon  them."  Like 
Fox  and  Pitt— 

"With  more  than  mortal  powers  endow'd 
How  high  they  soar'd  above  the  crowd; 
Theirs  was  no  common  party  race, 
Jostling  by  dark  intrigue  for  place — 
Like  fabled  gods  their  mighty  war 
Shook  realms  and  nations  in  its  jar. 
Beneath  each  banner  proud  to  stand, 
Look'd  up  the  noblest  of  the  land. 

»  *  *    '         *  * 

Here  let  their  discord  with  them  die. 
Speak  not  for  those  a  separate  doom  ; 
Whom  fate  made  brothers  in  the  tomb  ; 
But  search  the  land  of  living  men, 
Where  wilt  thou  find  their  like  again  ?" 

Mr.  Venable,  said : — 
Mr.  Speaker  :  I  trust  that  I  shall  be  pardoned  for 
adding  a  few  words  upon  this  sad  occasion.  The 
life  of  the  illustrious  statesman  which  has  just  ter- 
minated is  so  interwoven  with  our  history,  and  the 
lustre  of  his  great  name  so  profusely  shed  over  its 
pages,  that  simple  admiration  of  his  high  qualities 
might  well  be  my  excuse.  But  it  is  a  sacred  privilege 
to  draw  near;  to  contemplate  the  end  of  the  great 
and  the  good.  It  is  profitable  as  well  as  purifying 
to  look  upon  and  realize  the  office  of  death  in  re- 
moving all  that  can  excite  jealousy  or  produce  dis- 


88 

trust,  and  to  gaze  upon  the  virtues  which,  like  jewels, 
have  survived  his  powers  of  destruction.  The  light 
which  radiates  from  the  life  of  a  great  and  patriotic 
statesman  is  often  dimmed  by  the  mists  which  party 
conflicts  throw  around  it.  But  the  blast  which 
strikes  him  down  purifies  the  atmosphere  which 
surrounded  him  in  life,  and  it  shines  forth  in  bright 
examples  and  well-earned  renown.  It  is  then  that 
we  witness  the  sincere  acknowledgment  of  gratitude 
by  a  people  who,  having  enjoyed  the  benefits  arising 
from  the  services  of  an  eminent  statesman,  embalm 
his  name  in  their  memory  and  hearts.  We  should 
cherish  such  recollections  as  well  from  patriotism  as 
self-respect.  Ours,  sir,  is  now  the  duty,  in  the  midst 
of  sadness,  in  this  high  place,  in  the  face  of  our  Ke- 
public,  and  before  the  world,  to  pay  this  tribute  by 
acknowledging  the  merits  of  our  colleague,  whose 
name  has  ornamented  the  Journals  of  Congress  for 
near  half  a  century.  Few,  very  few,  have  ever  com- 
bined the  high  intellectual  powers  and  distinguished 
gifts  of  this  illustrious  Senator.  Cast  in  the  finest 
mould  by  nature,  he  more  than  fulfilled  the  antici- 
pations which  were  indulged  by  those  who  looked 
to  a  distinguished  career  as  the  certain  result  of  that 
zealous  pursuit  of  fame  and  usefulness  upon  which 
he  entered  in  early  life.  Of  the  incidents  of  that 
life  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  speak — they  are  as 
familiar  as  household  words,  and  must  be  equally 
familiar  to  those  who  come  after  us.     But  it  is  use- 


89 

ful  to  refresh  memory,  by  recurrence  to  some  of 
the  events  which  marked  his  career.  We  know, 
sir,  that  there  is  much  that  is  in  common  in  the  his- 
tories of  distinguished  men.  The  elements  which 
constitute  greatness  are  the  same  in  all  times;  hence 
those  who  have  been  the  admiration  of  their  genera- 
tions present  in  their  lives  much  which,  although 
really  great,  ceases  to  be  remarkable,  because  illus- 
trated by  such  numerous  examples — 

"But  there  are  deeds  which  should  not  pass  away, 
And  names  that  must  not  wither." 

Of  such  deeds  the  life  of  Henry  Clay  affords 
many  and  bright  examples.  His  own  name,  and 
those  with  whom  he  associated,  shall  live  with  a 
freshness  which  time  cannot  impair,  and  shine  with 
a  brightness  which  passing  years  cannot  dim.  His 
advent  into  public  life  was  as  remarkable  for  the 
circumstances  as  it  was  brilliant  in  its  effect.  It 
was  at  a  time  in  which  genius  and  learning,  states- 
manship and  eloquence,  made  the  American  Con- 
gress the  most  august  body  in  the  world.  He  was 
the  contemporary  of  a  race  of  statesmen,  some  of 
whom — then  administering  the  Government,  and 
others  retiring  and  retired  from  office — presented  an 
array  of  ability  unsurpassed  in  our  history.  The 
elder  Adams,  Jefferson,  Madison,  Gallatin,  Clinton, 
and  Monroe,  stood  before  the  Republic  in  the  ma- 
turity of  their  fame;  while  Calhoun,  John  Quincy 
Adams,  Lowndes,  Randolph,  Crawford,  Gaston,  and 


90 

Cheves,  with  a  host  of  others,  rose  a  bright  galaxy 
upon  our  horizon.  He  who  won  his  spurs  in  such 
a  field  earned  his  knighthood.  Distinction  amid 
such  competition  was  true  renown — 

"  The  fame  which  a  man  wins  for  himself  is  best — 
That  he  may  call  his  own." 

It  was  such  a  fame  that  he  made  for  himself  in 
that  most  eventful  era  in  our  history.  To  me,  sir, 
the  recollections  of  that  day,  and  the  events  which 
distinguish  it,  is  rilled  with  an  overpowering  interest. 
I  never  can  forget  my  enthusiastic  admiration  of  the 
boldness,  the  eloquence,  and  the  patriotism  of  Henry 
Clay  during  the  war  of  1812.  In  the  bright  array 
of  talent  which  adorned  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States;  in  the  conflict  growing  out  of  the  political 
events  of  that  time;  in  the  struggles  of  party,  and 
amid  the  gloom  and  disasters  which  depressed  the 
spirits  of  most  men,  and  well  nigh  paralyzed  the 
energies  of  the  Administration,  his  cheerful  face, 
high  bearing,  commanding  eloquence  and  iron  will, 
gave  strength  and  consistency  to  those  elements 
which  finally  gave  not  only  success  but  glory  to  the 
country.  When  dark  clouds  hovered  over  us,  and 
there  was  little  to  save  from  despair,  the  country 
looked  with  hope  to  Clay  and  Calhoun,  to  Lowndes, 
and  Crawford,  and  Cheves,  and  looked  not  in  vain. 
The  unbending  will,  the  unshaken  nerve,  and  the 
burning  eloquence  of  Henry  Clay  did  as  much  to 
command  confidence  and  sustain  hope  as  even  the 


91 

news  of  our  first  victory  after  a  succession  of  defeats. 
Those  great  names  are  now  canonized  in  history; 
he,  too,  has  passed  to  join  them  on  its  pages.  Asso- 
ciated in  his  long  political  life  with  the  illustrious 
Calhoun,  he  survived  him  but  two  years.  Many  of 
us  heard  his  eloquent  tribute  to  his  memory  in  the 
Senate  Chamber  on  the  annunciation  of  his  death. 
And  we  this  day  unite  in  a  similar  manifestation  of 
reverential  regard  to  him  whose  voice  shall  never 
more  charm  the  ear,  whose  burning  thoughts,  borne 
on  that  medium,  shall  no  more  move  the  hearts  of 
listening  assemblies. 

In  the  midst  of  the  highest  specimens  of  our  race, 
he  wTas  always  an  equal ;  he  was  a  man  among  men. 
Bold,  skilful,  and  determined,  he  gave  character  to 
the  party  which  acknowledged  him  as  a  leader; 
impressed  his  opinions  upon  their  minds,  and  an 
attachment  to  himself  upon  their  hearts.  No  man, 
sir,  can  do  this  without  being  eminently  great. 
Whoever  attains  this  position  must  first  overcome 
the  aspirations  of  antagonist  ambition,  quiet  the 
clamours  of  rivalry,  hold  in  check  the  murmurs  of 
jealousy,  and  overcome  the  instincts  of  vanity  and 
self-love  in  the  masses  thus  subdued  to  his  control. 
But  few  men  ever  attain  it.  Very  rare  are  the  ex- 
amples of  those  whose  plastic  touch  forms  the  minds 
and  directs  the  purposes  of  a  great  political  party. 
This  infallible  indication  of  superiority  belonged  to 
Mr.  Clay.     He  has  exercised  that  control  during  a 


92 

long  life;  and  now  through  our  broad  land  the 
tidings  of  his  death,  borne  with  electric  speed,  have 
opened  the  fountains  of  sorrow.  Every  city,  town, 
village,  and  hamlet  will  be  clothed  with  mourning; 
along  our  extended  coast,  the  commercial  and  mili- 
tary marine,  with  flags  drooping  at  half-mast,  own 
the  bereavement;  State-houses  draped  in  black  pro- 
claim the  extinguishment  of  one  of  the  great  lights 
of  Senates ;  and  minute-guns  sound  his  requiem ! 

Sir,  during  the  last  five  years  I  have  seen  the 
venerable  John  Quincy  Adams,  John  C.  Calhoun, 
and  Henry  Clay  pass  from  among  us,  the  legislators 
of  our  country.  The  race  of  giants  who  "  were  on 
the  earth  in  those  days"  is  well-nigh  gone.  Despite 
their  skill,  their  genius,  their  might,  they  have  sunk 
under  the  stroke  of  time.  They  were  our  admira- 
tion and  our  glory;  a  few  linger  with  us,  the  monu- 
ments of  former  greatness,  the  beacon-lights  of  a 
past  age.  The  death  of  Henry  Clay  cannot  fail  to 
suggest  melancholy  associations  to  each  member  of 
this  House.  These  walls  have  re-echoed  the  silvery 
tones  of  his  bewitching  voice;  listening  assemblies 
have  hung  upon  his  lips.  The  chair  which  you  fill 
has  been  graced  by  his  presence,  while  his  com- 
manding person  and  unequalled  parliamentary  at- 
tainments inspired  all  with  deference  and  respect. 
Chosen  by  acclamation  because  of  his  high  qualifica- 
tions, he  sustained  himself  before  the  House  and  the 
country.     In  his  supremacy  with  his  party,  and  the 


g ,M,  i 

93 

uninterrupted  confidence  which  he  enjoyed  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  he  seems  to  have  almost  discredited 
the  truth  of  those  lines  of  the  poet  Laberius — 

"Non  possunt  primi  esse  omnes  omni  in  tempore, 
Summum  ad  gradum  cum  claritatis  veneris, 
Consistes  segre,  et  citius,  quam  ascendas,  cades." 

If  not  at  all  times  first,  he  stood  equal  with  the 
foremost,  and  a  brilliant  rapid  rise  knew  no  decline 
in  the  confidence  of  those  whose  just  appreciation  of 
his  merits  had  confirmed  his  title  to  renown. 

The  citizens  of  other  countries  will  deplore  his 
death ;  the  struggling  patriots  who  on  our  own  conti- 
nent were  cheered  by  his  sympathies,  and  who  must 
have  perceived  his  influence  in  the  recognition  of 
their  independence  by  this  Government,  have  taught 
their  children  to  venerate  his  name.  He  won  the 
civic  crown,  and  the  demonstrations  of  this  hour 
own  the  worth  of  civil  services. 

It  was  with  great  satisfaction  that  I  heard  my 
friend  from  Kentucky,  [Mr.  BreckenridgeJ  the  im- 
mediate representative  of  Mr.  Clay,  detail  a  con- 
versation which  disclosed  the  feelings  of  that  emi- 
nent man  in  relation  to  his  Christian  hope.  These, 
Mr.  Speaker,  are  rich  memorials,  precious  reminis- 
cences. A  Christian  statesman  is  the  glory  of  his 
age,  and  his  memory  will  be  glorious  in  after  times ; 
it  reflects  a  light  coming  from  a  source  which  clouds 
cannot  dim  nor  shadows  obscure.  It  was  my  privi- 
lege, also,  a  short  time  since,  to  converse  with  this 


94 

distinguished  statesman  on  the  subject  of  his  hopes 
in  a  future  state.  Feeling  a  deep  interest,  I  asked 
him  frankly  what  were  his  hopes  in  the  world  to 
which  he  was  evidently  hastening.  "  I  am  pleased," 
said  he,  amy  friend,  that  you  have  introduced  the 
subject.  Conscious  that  I  must  die  very  soon,  I  love 
to  meditate  upon  the  most  important  of  all  interests. 
I  love  to  converse  and  to  hear  conversations  about 
them.  The  vanity  of  the  world  and  its  insufficiency 
to  satisfy  the  soul  of  man  has  long  been  a  settled 
conviction  of  my  mind.  Man  s  inability  to  secure 
by  his  own  merits  the  approbation  of  God,  I  feel  to 
be  true.  I  trust  in  the  atonement  of  the  Saviour  of 
men  as  the  ground  of  my  acceptance  and  my  hope 
of  salvation.  My  faith  is  feeble,  but  I  hope  in  His 
mercy  and  trust  in  His  promises."  To  such  declara- 
tions I  listened  with  the  deepest  interest,  as  I  did  on 
another  occasion,  when  he  said :  "  I  am  willing  to 
abide  the  will  of  Heaven,  and  ready  to  die  when 
that  will  shall  determine  it." 

He  is  gone,  sir,  professing  the  humble  hope  of  a 
Christian.  That  hope,  alone,  sir,  can  sustain  you, 
or  any  of  us.  There  is  one  lonely  and  crushed 
heart  that  has  bowed  before  this  afflictive  event. 
Far  away,  at  Ashland,  a  widowed  wife,  prevented 
by  feeble  health  from  attending  his  bedside  and 
soothing  his  painful  hours,  she  has  thought  even  the 
electric  speed  of  the  intelligence  daily  transmitted  of 
his  condition  too  slow  for  her  aching,  anxious  bosom. 


95 

She  will  find  consolation  in  his  Christian  submission, 
and  will  draw  all  of  comfort  that  such  a  case  admits 
from  the  assurance  that  nothing  was  neglected  by 
the  kindness  of  friends  which  could  supply  her  place. 
May  the  guardianship  of  the  widow's  God  be  her  pro- 
tection, and  His  consolations  her  support! 

"All  cannot  be  at  all  times  first, 
To  reach  the  topmost  step  of  glory ;  to  stand  there 
More  hard.     Even  swifter  than  we  mount  we  fall." 


Mr.  Haven,  said: — 

Mr.  Speaker  :  Kepresenting  a  constituency  distin- 
guished for  the  constancy  of  its  devotion  to  the  politi- 
cal principles  of  Mr.  Clay,  and  for  its  unwavering 
attachment  to  his  fortunes  and  his  person — sympa- 
thizing deeply  with  those  whose  more  intimate  per- 
sonal relations  with  him  have  made  them  feel  most 
profoundly  this  general  bereavement — I  desire  to 
say  a  few  words  of  him,  since  he  has  fallen  amongst 
us,  and  been  taken  to  his  rest. 

After  the  finished  eulogies  which  have  been  so 
eloquently  pronounced  by  the  honourable  gentlemen 
who  have  preceded  me,  I  will  avoid  a  course  of  re- 
mark which  might  otherwise  be  deemed  a  repetition, 
and  refer  to  the  bearing  of  some  of  the  acts  of  the 
deceased  upon  the  interests  and  destinies  of  my  own 
State.  The  influence  of  his  public  life,  and  of  his 
purely  American  character,  the  benefits  of  his  wise 
forecast,  and  the  results  of  his  efforts  for  wholesome 


96 

and  rational  progress,  are  nowhere  more  strongly  ex- 
hibited than  in  the  State  of  New  York. 

Our  appreciation  of  his  anxiety  for  the  general 
diffusion  of  knowledge  and  education,  is  manifested 
in  our  twelve  thousand  public  libraries,  our  equal 
number  of  common  schools,  and  a  large  number  of 
higher  institutions  of  learning,  all  of  which  draw  por- 
tions of  their  support  from  the  share  of  the  proceeds 
of  the  public  lands,  which  his  wise  policy  gave  to 
our  State.  Our  whole  people  are  thus  constantly  re- 
minded of  their  great  obligations  to  the  statesman 
whose  death  now  afflicts  the  nation  with  sorrow. 
Our  extensive  public  works,  attest  our  conviction  of 
the  utility  and  importance  of  the  system  of  internal 
improvements  he  so  ably  advocated ;  and  their  value 
and  productiveness,  afford  a  most  striking  evidence 
of  the  soundness  and  wisdom  of  his  policy.  Nor  has 
his  influence  been  less  sensibly  felt  in  our  agriculture, 
commerce,  and  manufactures.  Every  department  of 
human  industry  acknowledges  his  fostering  care;  and 
the  people  of  New  York  are,  in  no  small  measure,  in- 
debted to  his  statesmanship  for  the  wealth,  comfort, 
contentment,  and  happiness  so  widely  and  generally 
diffused  throughout  the  State. 

Well  may  New  York  cherish  his  memory  and  ac- 
knowlege  with  gratitude  the  benefits  that  his  life  has 
conferred.  That  memory  will  be  cherished  through- 
out the  Republic. 

When  internal  discord  and  sectional  strife  have 


97 

threatened  the  integrity  of  the  Union,  his  just  weight 
of  character,  his  large  experience,  his  powers  of  con- 
ciliation and  acknowledged  patriotism,  have  enabled 
him  to  pacify  the  angry  passions  of  his  countrymen, 
and  to  raise  the  bow  of  promise  and  of  hope  upon  the 
clouds  which  have  darkened  the  political  horizon. 

He  has  passed  from  amongst  us,  ripe  in  wisdom 
and  pure  in  character — full  of  years  and  full  of  ho- 
nours— he  has  breathed  his  last  amidst  the  blessings 
of  a  united  and  grateful  nation. 

He  was,  in  my  judgment,  particularly  fortunate 
in  the  time  of  his  death. 

He  lived  to  see  his  country,  guided  by  his  wisdom, 
come  once  again  unhurt,  out  of  trying  sectional  diffi- 
culties and  domestic  strife;  and  he  has  closed  his 
eyes  in  death  upon  that  country,  whilst  it  is  in  the 
enjoyment  of  profound  peace,  busy  with  industry? 
and  blessed  with  unequalled  prosperity. 

It  can  fall  to  the  lot  of  but  few  to  die  amidst  so 
warm  a  gratitude  flowing  from  the  hearts  of  their 
countrymen ;  and  none  can  leave  a  brighter  example 
or  a  more  enduring  fame. 

Mr.  Brooks,  of  New  York,  said : — 
Mr.  Speaker  :  I  rise  to  add  my  humble  tribute  to 
the  memory  of  a  great  and  good  man  now  to  be  ga- 
thered to  his  fathers.  I  speak  for,  and  from,  a  com- 
munity in  whose  heart  is  enshrined  the  name  of  him 
whom  we  mourn;  who,  however  much  Virginia,  the 

7 


98 

land  of  his  birth,  or  Kentucky,  the  land  of  his  adop- 
tion, may  love  him,  is,  if  possible,  loved  where  I  live 
yet  more.  If  idolatry  had  been  Christian,  or  allow- 
able even,  he  would  have  been  our  idol.  But  as  it 
is,  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  now,  his  bust,  his  por- 
trait, or  some  medal,  has  been  one  of  our  household 
gods,  gracing  not  alone  the  saloons  and  the  halls  of 
wealth,  but  the  humblest  room  or  workshop  of  almost 
every  mechanic  or  labourer.  Proud  monuments  of 
his  policy  as  a  statesman,  as  my  colleague  has  justly 
said,  are  all  about  us;  and  we  owe  to  him,  in  a  good 
degree,  our  growth,  our  greatness,  our  prosperity  and 
happiness  as  a  people. 

The  great  field  of  Henry  Clay,  Mr.  Speaker,  has 
been  here,  on  the  floor  of  this  House,  and  in  the  other 
wing  of  the  Capitol.  He  has  held  other  posts  of 
higher  nominal  distinction,  but  they  are  all  eclipsed 
by  the  brilliancy  of  his  career  as  a  Congressman. 
What  of  glory  he  has  acquired,  or  what  most  endear 
him  to  his  countrymen,  have  been  won,  here,  amid 
these  pillars,  under  these  domes  of  the  Capitol. 

"Si  quaeris  monumentum,  circumspice." 

The  mind  of  Mr.  Clay  has  been  the  governing 
mind  of  the  country,  more  or  less,  ever  since  he  has 
been  on  the  stage  of  public  action.  In  a  minority  or 
majority — more,  perhaps,  even  in  a  minority  than  in 
a  majority — he  seems  to  have  had  some  commission, 
divine  as  it  were,  to  persuade,  to  convince,  to  govern 


99 

other  men.  His  patriotism,  his  grand  conceptions, 
have  created  measures  which  the  secret  fascination 
of  his  manners,  in-doors,  or  his  irresistible  eloquence 
without,  have  enabled  him  almost  always  to  frame 
into  laws.  Adverse  administrations  have  yielded  to 
him,  or  been  borne  down  by  him,  or  he  has  taken 
them  captive  as  a  leader,  and  carried  the  country  and 
Congress  with  him.  This  power  he  has  wielded  now 
for  nearly  half  a  century,  with  nothing  but  Reason 
and  Eloquence  to  back  him.  And  yet  when  he 
came  here,  years  ago,  he  came  from  a  then  frontier 
State  of  this  Union,  heralded  by  no  loud  trumpet  of 
fame,  nay,  quite  unknown!  unfortified  even  by  any 
position,  social  or  pecuniary; — to  quote  his  own 
words,  "My  only  heritage  has  been  infancy,  indi- 
gence, and  ignorance." 

In  these  days,  Mr.  Speaker,  when  mere  civil  quali- 
fications for  high  public  places — when  long  civil 
training  and  practical  statesmanship  are  held  subor- 
dinate— a  most  discouraging  prospect  would  be  rising 
up  before  our  young  men,  were  it  not  for  some  such 
names  as  Lowndes,  Crawford,  Clinton,  Gaston,  Cal- 
houn, Clay,  and  the  like,  scattered  along  the  pages  of 
our  history,  as  stars  or  constellations  along  a  cloud- 
less sky.  They  shine  forth  and  show  us,  that  if  the 
Chief  Magistracy  cannot  be  won  by  such  qualifica- 
tions, a  memory  among  men  can  be — a  hold  upon 
posterity,  as  firm,  as  lustrous — nay,  more  imperisha- 
ble.    In  the  Capitolium  of  Rome  there  are  long  rows 


100 

of  marble  slabs,  on  which  are  recorded  the  names  of 
the  Koman  consuls;  but  the  eye  wanders  over  this 
wilderness  of  letters  but  to  light  up  and  kindle  upon 
some  Cato  or  Cicero.  To  win  such  fame,  thus  un- 
sullied, as  Mr.  Clay  has  won,  is  worth  any  man's 
ambition.  And  how  was  it  won?  By  courting  the 
shifting  gales  of  popularity?  No,  never!  By  truck- 
ling to  the  schemes,  the  arts,  and  seductions  of 
the  demagogue?  Never,  never!  His  hardest  bat- 
tles as  a  public  man — his  greatest,  most  illustrious 
achievements — have  been  against,  at  first,  an  adverse 
public  opinion.  To  gain  an  imperishable  name,  he 
has  often  braved  the  perishable  popularity  of  the 
moment.  That  sort  of  courage  which,  in  a  public 
man,  I  deem  the  highest  of  all  courage,  that  sort  of 
courage  most  necessary  under  our  form  of  govern- 
ment to  guide  as.  well  as  to  save  a  State,  Mr.  Clay 
was  possessed  of  more  than  any  public  man  I  ever 
knew.  Physical  courage,  valuable,  indispensable 
though  it  be,  we  share  but  with  the  brute ;  but  moral 
courage,  to  dare  to  do  right  amid  all  temptations  to  do 
wrong,  is,  as  it  seems  to  me,  the  very  highest  species, 
the  noblest  heroism,  under  institutions  like  ours.  "  I 
had  rather  be  right  than  be  President,"  was  Mr. 
Clay's  sublime  reply  when  pressed  to  refrain  from 
some  measure  that  would  mar  his  popularity.  These 
lofty  words  were  the  clue  of  his  whole  character — the 
secret  of  his  hold  upon  the  heads  as  well  as  hearts  of  the 
American  people;  nay,  the  key  of  his  immortality. 


101 

Another  of  the  keys,  Mr.  Speaker,  of  his  universal 
reputation  was  his  intense  nationality.  When  taunt- 
ed but  recently,  almost  within  our  hearing,  as  it  were, 
on  the  floor  of  the  Senate  by  a  Southern  Senator,  as 
being  a  Southern  man  unfaithful  to  the  South — his 
indignant  but  patriotic  exclamation  was,  "  I  know  no 
South,  no  North,  no  East,  no  West."  The  country, 
the  whole  country,  loved,  reverenced,  adored  such  a 
man.  The  soil  of  Virginia  may  be  his  birthplace, 
the  sod  of  Kentucky  will  cover  his  grave — what  was 
mortal  they  claim — but  the  spirit,  the  soul,  the 
genius  of  the  mighty  man,  the  immortal  part,  these 
belong  to  his  country  and  to  his  God. 

Mr.  Faulkner,  of  Virginia,  said : — 
Representing,  in  part,  the  State  which  gave  birth 
to  that  distinguished  man  whose  death  has  just  been 
announced  upon  this  floor,  and  having  for  many 
years  held  toward  him  the  most  cordial  relations  of 
friendship,  personal  and  political,  I  feel  that  I  should 
fail  to  discharge  an  appropriate  duty,  if  I  permitted 
this  occasion  to  pass  by  without  some  expression  of 
the  feeling  which  such  an  event  is  so  well  calculated 
to  elicit.  Sir,  this  intelligence  does  not  fall  upon 
our  ears  unexpectedly.  For  months  the  public  mind 
has  been  prepared  for  the  great  national  loss  which 
we  now  deplore ;  and  yet,  as  familiar  as  the  daily 
and  hourly  reports  have  made  us  with  his  hopeless 
condition  and  gradual  decline,  and  although 


102 

"  Like  a  shadow  thrown 
Softly  and  sweetly  from  a  passing  cloud, 
Death  fell  upon  him," 

it  is  impossible  that  a  light  of  such  surpassing  splen- 
dour should  be,  as  it  is  now,  for  ever  extinguished 
from  our  view,  without  producing  a  shock,  deeply 
and  painfully  felt,  to  the  utmost  limits  of  this  great 
Kepublic.  Sir,  we  all  feel  that  a  mighty  intellect 
has  passed  from  among  us;  but,  happily  for  this 
country,  happily  for  mankind,  not  until  it  had  ac- 
complished to  some  extent  the  exalted  mission  for 
which  it  had  been  sent  upon  this  earth ;  not  until 
it  had  reached  the  full  maturity  of  its  usefulness  and 
power ;  not  until  it  had  shed  a  bright  and  radiant 
lustre  over  our  national  renown ;  not  until  time  had 
enabled  it  to  bequeath  the  rich  treasures  of  its 
thought  and  experience  for  the  guidance  and  in- 
struction of  the  present  and  of  succeeding  genera- 
tions. 

Sir,  it  is  difficult, — it  is  impossible, — within  the 
limit  allowed  for  remarks  upon  occasions  of  this 
kind,  to  do  justice  to  a  great  historical  character  like 
Henry  Clay.  He  was  one  of  that  class  of  men 
whom  Scaliger  designates  as  homi?ies  centenarii — 
men  that  appear  upon  the  earth  but  once  in  a 
century.  His  fame  is  the  growth  of  years,  and  it 
would  require  time  to  unfold  the  elements  which 
have  combined  to  impart  to  it  so  much  of  stability 
and  grandeur.  Volumes  have  already  been  written, 
and  volumes  will  continue  to  be  written,  to  record 


103 

those  eminent  and  distinguished  public  services 
which  have  placed  him  in  the  front  rank  of  Ameri- 
can statesmen  and  patriots.  The  highest  talents, 
stimulated  by  a  fervid  and  patriotic  enthusiasm,  has 
already  and  will  continue  to  exhaust  its  powers  to 
portray  those  striking  and  generous  incidents  of  his 
life, — those  shining  and  captivating  qualities  of  his 
heart,  which  have  made  him  one  of  the  most  beloved, 
as  he  was  one  of  the  most  admired,  of  men ;  and  yet 
the  subject  itself  will  remain  as  fresh  and  exhaust- 
less  as  if  hundreds  of  the  best  intellects  of  the  land 
had  not  quaffed  the  inspiration  of  their  genius  from 
the  ever-gushing  and  overflowing  fountains  of  his 
fame.  It  could  not  be  that  a  reputation  so  grand 
and  colossal  as  that  which  attaches  to  the  name  of 
Henry  Clay  could  rest  for  its  base  upon  any  single 
virtue,  however  striking ;  nor  upon  any  single  act, 
no  matter  how  marked  or  distinguished.  Such  a 
reputation  as  he  has  left  behind  him,  could  only  be 
the  result  of  a  long  life  of  illustrious  public  service. 
And  such  in  truth  it  was.  For  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury he  has  been  a  prominent  actor  in  all  the  stirring 
and  eventful  scenes  of  American  history,  fashioning 
and  moulding  many  of  the  most  important  measures 
of  public  policy  by  his  bold  and  sagacious  mind,  and 
arresting  others  by  his  unconquerable  energy  and 
resistless  force  of  eloquence.  And  however  much 
the  members  of  this  body  may  differ  in  opinion  as 
to  the  wisdom  of  many  of  his  views  of  national 


104 

domestic  policy,  there  is  not  one  upon  this  floor — no, 
sir,  not  one  in  this  nation — who  will  deny  to  him 
frankness  and  directness  as  a  public  man ;  a  genius 
for  statesmanship  of  the  highest  order;  extraordi- 
nary capacities  for  public  usefulness,  and  an  ardent 
and  elevated  patriotism,  without  stain  and  without 
reproach. 

In  referring  to  a  career  of  public  service  so  varied 
and  extended  as  that  of  Mr.  Clay,  and  to  a  character 
so  rich  in  every  great  and  manly  virtue,  it  is  only 
possible  to  glance  at  a  few  of  the  most  prominent  of 
those  points  of  his  personal  history,  which  have  given 
to  him  so  distinguished  a  place  in  the  affections  of 
his  countrymen. 

In  the  wThole  character  of  Mr.  Clay,  in  all  that 
attached  or  belonged  to  it,  you  find  nothing  that  is 
not  essentially  American.  Born  in  the  darkest 
period  of  our  revolutionary  struggle;  reared  from 
infancy  to  manhood  among  those  great  minds  which 
gave  the  first  impulse  to  that  mighty  movement,  he 
early  imbibed  and  sedulously  cherished  those  great 
principles  of  civil  and  political  liberty,  wrhich  he  so 
brilliantly  illustrated  in  his  subsequent  life,  and 
which  has  made  his  name  a  watchword  of  hope  and 
consolation  to  the  oppressed  of  all  the  earth.  In  his 
intellectual  training  he.  was  the  pure  creation  of  our 
own  republican  soil.  Few,  if  any,  allusions  are  to  be 
seen  in  his  speeches  or  writings  to  ancient  or  modern 
literature,  or  to  the  thoughts  and  ideas  of  other  men. 


105 

His  country,  its  institutions,  its  policy,  its  interests, 
its  destiny,  form  the  exclusive  topics  of  those  elo- 
quent harangues  which,  while  they  are  destitute  of 
the  elaborate  finish,  have  all  the  ardour  and  inten- 
sity of  thought,  the  earnestness  of  purpose,  the  co- 
gency of  reasoning,  the  vehemence  of  style,  and  the 
burning  patriotism  which  mark  the  productions  of 
the  great  Athenian  orator. 

One  of  the  most  distinguishing  characteristics  of 
Mr.  Clay  as  a  public  man  was  his  loyalty  to  truth 
and  to  the  honest  convictions  of  his  own  mind.  He 
deceived  no  man  :  he  would  not  permit  his  own 
heart  to  be  deceived  by  any  of  those  seductive  in- 
fluences which  too  often  warp  the  judgment  of  men 
in  public  station.  He  never  paused  to  consider  how 
far  any  step  which  he  was  about  to  take  would  lead 
to  his  own  personal  advancement;  he  never  calcu- 
lated what  he  might  lose  or  what  he  might  gain  by 
his  advocacy  of,  or  his  opposition  to,  any  particular 
measure.  His  single  inquiry  was,  Is  it  right  ?  Is  it 
in  accordance  with  the  Constitution  of  the  land? 
Will  it  redound  to  the  permanent  welfare  of  the 
country?  When  satisfied  upon  these  points,  his 
determination  was  fixed ;  his  purpose  was  immova- 
ble. "  I  would  rather  be  right  than  President"  was 
the  expression  of  his  genuine  feelings,  and  the  prin- 
ciple by  which  he  was  controlled  in  his  public  career 
— a  saying  worthy  of  immortality,  and  proper  to  be 
inscribed  upon  the  heart  of  every  young  man  in  this 


m 

106 

Republic.  And  yet,  sir,  with  all  of  that  personal 
and  moral  intrepidity  which  so  eminently  marked 
the  character  of  Mr.  Clay  ;  with  his  well-known  in- 
flexibility of  purpose  and  unyielding  resolution,  such 
was  the  genuine  sincerity  of  his  patriotism,  and  such 
his  thorough  comprehension  of  those  principles  of 
compromise,  upon  which  the  whole  structure  of  our 
Government  was  founded,  that  no  one  was  more 
prompt  to  relax  the  rigour  of  his  policy  the  moment 
he  perceived  that  it  was  calculated  to  disturb  the 
harmony  of  the  States,  or  to  endanger  in  any  degree 
the  stability  of  the  Government.  With  him  the 
love  of  this  Union  was  a  passion — an  absorbing 
sentiment — which  gave  colour  to  every  act  of  his 
public  life.  It  triumphed  over  party ;  it  triumphed 
over  policy;  it  subdued  the  natural  fierceness  and 
haughtiness  of  his  temper,  and  brought  him  into  the 
most  kindly  and  cordial  relations  with  those  who, 
upon  all  other  questions,  were  deeply  and  bitterly 
opposed  to  him.  It  has  been  asserted,  sir,  upon  high 
medical  authority,  and  doubtless  with  truth,  that 
his  life  was  in  all  probability  shortened  ten  years  by 
the  arduous  and  extraordinary  labours  which  he  as- 
sumed at  the  memorable  session  of  1850.  If  so,  he 
has  added  the  crowning  glory  of  the  martyr  to  the 
spotless  fame  of  the  patriot  ;  and  we  may  well  hope 
that  a  great  national  pacification,  purchased  at  such 
a  sacrifice,  will  long  continue  to  cement  the  bonds 
of  this  now  happy  and  prosperous  Union. 


107 

Mr.  Clay  possessed,  in  an  eminent  degree,  the 
qualities  of  a  great  popular  leader;  and  history,  I 
will  assume  to  say,  affords  no  example  in  any  repub- 
lic, ancient  or  modern,  of  any  individual  that  so  fear- 
lessly carried  out  the  convictions  of  his  own  judg- 
ment, and  so  sparingly  flattered  the  prejudices  of 
popular  feeling,  who,  for  so  long  a  period,  exercised 
the  same  controlling  influence  over  the  public  mind. 
Earnest  in  whatever  measure  he  sustained,  fearless 
in  attack, — dexterous  in  defence, — abounding  in  in- 
tellectual resource, — eloquent  in  debate, — of  inflexi- 
ble purpose,  and  with  a  "courage  never  to  submit  or 
yield,"  no  man  ever  lived  with  higher  qualifications 
to  rally  a  desponding  party,  or  to  lead  an  embattled 
host  to  victory.  That  he  never  attained  the  highest 
post  of  honourable  ambition  in  this  country  is  not  to 
be  ascribed  to  any  wTant  of  capacity  as  a  popular 
leader,  nor  to  the  absence  of  those  qualities  which 
attract  the  fidelity  and  devotion  of  "  troops"  of  admir- 
ing friends.  It  was  the  fortune  of  Napoleon,  at  a 
critical  period  of  his  destiny,  to  be  brought  into  col- 
lision with  the  star  of  Wellington;  and  it  was  the 
fortune  of  Henry  Clay  to  have  encountered,  in  his 
political  orbit,  another  great  and  original  mind,  gifted 
with  equal  power  for  commanding  success,  and  bless- 
ed with  more  fortunate  elements,  concurring  at  the 
time,  of  securing  popular  favour.  The  struggle  was 
such  as  might  have  been  anticipated  from  the  colli- 
sion of  two  such  fierce  and   powerful  rivals.     For 


108 

near  a  quarter  of  a  century  this  great,  republic  has 
been  convulsed  to  its  centre  by  the  divisions  which 
have  sprung  from  their  respective  opinions,  policy, 
and  personal  destinies;  and  even  now,  when  they 
have  both  been  removed  to  a  higher  and  a  better 
sphere  of  existence,  and  when  every  unkind  feeling 
has  been  quenched  in  the  triumphs  of  the  grave,  this 
country  still  feels,  and  for  years  will  continue  to  feel, 
the  influence  of  those  agitations  to  which  their  power- 
ful and  impressive  characters  gave  impulse. 

But  I  must  pause.  If  I  were  to  attempt  to  pre- 
sent all  the  aspects  in  which  the  character  of  this 
illustrious  man  will  challenge  the  applause  of  his- 
tory, I  should  fatigue  the  House  and  violate  the  just 
limit  allowed  for  such  remarks. 

I  cannot  however  conclude,  sir,  without  making 
some  more  special  allusion  to  Mr.  Clay,  as  a  native 
of  that  State  which  I  have  the  honour  in  part  to  re- 
present upon  this  floor.  We  are  all  proud,  and  very 
properly  proud,  of  the  distinguished  men  to  whom  our 
respective  States  have  given  birth.  It  is  a  just  and 
laudable  emulation,  and  one,  in  a  confederated  go- 
vernment like  ours,  proper  to  be  encouraged.  And 
while  men  like  Mr.  Clay  very  rapidly  rise  above 
the  confined  limits  of  a  State  reputation,  and  acquire 
a  national  fame,  in  which  all  claim  and  all  have  an 
equal  interest,  still  there  is  a  propriety  and  fitness 
in  preserving  the  relation  between  the  individual  and 
his  State.     Virginia  has  given  birth  to  a  large  num- 


109 

ber  of  men  who  have  by  their  distinguished  talents 
and  services  impressed  their  names  upon  the  hearts 
and  memories  of  their  countrymen;  but  certainly, 
since  the  colonial  era,  she  has  given  birth  to  no  man, 
who,  in  the  massive  and  gigantic  proportions  of  his 
character,  and  in  the  splendour  of  his  native  endow- 
ments, can  be  compared  to  Henry  Clay.  At  an 
early  age  he  emigrated  from  his  native  State,  and 
found  a  home  in  Kentucky.  In  a  speech  which  he 
delivered  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1842 — and  which  I  well  remember — upon  the 
occasion  of  his  resigning  his  seat  in  that  body,  he 
expressed  the  wish  that,  when  that  event  should 
occur  which  has  now  clothed  this  city  in  mourning 
and  filled  the  nation  with  grief,  his  "  earthly  remains 
should  be  laid  under  the  green  sod  of  Kentucky,  with 
those  of  her  gallant  and  patriotic  sons." 

Sir,  however  gratifying  it  might  be  to  us  that  his 
remains  should  be  transferred  to  his  native  soil,  to 
there  mingle  with  the  ashes  of  Washington,  Jefferson, 
Madison,  Lee,  and  Henry,  we  cannot  complain  of  the 
very  natural  preference  which  he  has  himself  ex- 
pressed. If  Virginia  did  give  him  birth — Kentucky 
has  nourished  him  in  his  manhood — has  freely  lav- 
ished upon  him  her  highest  honours — has  shielded 
him  from  harm  when  the  clouds  of  calumny  and  de- 
traction gathered  heavily  and  loweringly  about  him, 
and  she  has  watched  over  his  fame  with  the  tender- 
ness and  zeal  of  a  mother.     Sir,  it  is  not  to  be  won- 


110 

dered  that  he  should  have  expressed  the  wish  he  did, 
to  be  laid  by  the  side  of  her  gallant  and  patriotic 
sons.  Happy  Kentucky!  Happy  in  having  an 
adopted  son  so  worthy  of  her  highest  honours. 
Happy,  in  the  unshaken  fidelity  and  loyalty  with 
which,  for  near  half  a  century,  those  honours  have 
been  so  steadfastly  and  gracefully  accorded  to  him. 

Sir,  whilst  Virginia,  in  the  exercise  of  her  own 
proper  judgment,  has  differed  from  Mr.  Clay  in  some 
of  his  views  of  national  policy,  she  has  never,  at  any 
period  of  his  public  career,  failed  to  regard  him  with 
pride,  as  one  of  her  most  distinguished  sons;  to  ho- 
nour the  purity  and  the  manliness  of  his  character, 
and  to  award  to  him  the  high  credit  of  an  honest  and 
sincere  devotion  to  his  country's  welfare.  And  now, 
sir,  that  death  has  arrested  for  ever  the  pulsations  of 
that  mighty  heart,  and  sealed  in  eternal  silence  those 
eloquent  lips  upon  whose  accents  thousands  have  so 
often  hung  in  rapture,  I  shall  stand  justified  in  say- 
ing, that  a  wail  of  lamentation  will  be  heard  from 
her  people — her  whole  people — reverberating  through 
her  mountains  and  valleys,  as  deep,  as  genuine,  and 
as  sincere  as  that,  which  I  know,  will  swell  the  noble 
hearts  and  the  heaving  bosoms  of  the  people  of  his 
own  cherished,  and  beloved  Kentucky, 

Sir,  as  I  walked  to  the  Capitol  this  morning,  every 
object  which  attracted  my  eye,  admonished  me  that 
a  nation's  benefactor  had  departed  from  amongst  us. 
He  is  gone!     Henry  Clay,  the  idol  of  his  friends, 


1 

111 

the  ornament  of  the  Senate  Chamber,  the  pride  of 
his  country;  he  whose  presence  gathered  crowds  of 
his  admiring  fellow-men  around  him,  as  if  he  had 
been  one  descended  from  above,  has  passed  for  ever 
from  our  view. 

"His  soul,  enlarged  from  its  vile  bonds,  has  gone 
To  that  refulgent  world,  where  it  shall  swim 
In  liquid  light,  and  float  on  seas  of  bliss." 

But  the  memory  of  his  virtues  and  of  his  services 
will  be  gratefully  embalmed  in  the  hearts  of  his  coun- 
trymen, and  generations  yet  unborn  will  be  taught 
to  lisp  with  reverence  and  enthusiasm  the  name  of 
Henry  Clay. 

Mr.  Parker,  of  Indiana,  said : — 

Mr.  Speaker:  This  is  a  solemn — a  consecrated 
hour.  And  I  would  not  detain  the  members  of  the 
House  from  indulging  in  the  silence  of  their  own  feel- 
ings, so  grateful  to  hearts  chastened  as  ours. 

But  I  cannot  restrain  an  expression  from  a  bosom 
pained  with  its  fulness. 

When  my  young  thoughts  first  took  cognisance  of 
the  fact  that  I  have  a  country — my  eye  was  attracted 
by  the  magnificent  proportions  of  Henry  Clay. 

The  idea  absorbed  me  then,  that  he  was,  above  all 
other  men,  the  embodiment  of  my  country's  genius. 

I  have  watched  him;  I  have  studied  him;  I  have 
admired  him — and,  God  forgive  me !  for  he  was  but 


112 


a  man,  "of  like  passions  with  us" — I  fear  I  have 
idolized  him,  until  this  hour. 

But  he  has  gone  from  among  men;  and  it  is  for 
us  now  to  awake  and  apply  ourselves,  with  renewed 
fervour  and  increased  fidelity,  to  the  welfare  of  the 
country  he  loved  so  well  and  served  so  truly  and  so 
long — the  glorious  country  yet  saved  to  us ! 

Yes,  Henry  Clay  has  fallen,  at  last ! — as  the  ripe 
oak  falls,  in  the  stillness  of  the  forest.  But  the  ver- 
dant and  gorgeous  richness  of  his  glories  will  only 
fade  and  wither  from  the  earth,  when  his  country's 
history  shall  have  been  forgotten. 

"  One  generation  passeth  away  and  another  gener- 
ation cometh."  Thus  it  has  been  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  thus  it  will  be,  until  time  shall  be  no 
longer. 

Yesterday  morning,  at  eleven  o'clock,  the  spirit 
of  Henry  Clay — so  long  the  pride  and  glory  of  his 
own  country,  and  the  admiration  of  all  the  world — 
was  yet  with  us,  though  struggling  to  be  free.  Ere 
"high  noon"  came,  it  had  passed  over  "the  dark 
river,"  through  the  gate,  into  the  celestial  city,  in- 
habited by  all  the  "just  men  made  perfect." 

May  not  our  rapt  vision  contemplate  him  there, 
this  day,  in  sweet  communion  with  the  dear  friends 
that  have  gone  before  him? — with  Madison,  and  Jef- 
ferson, and  Washington,  and  Henry,  and  Franklin — 
with  the  eloquent  Tully,  with  the  "divine  Plato," 
with  Aaron  the  Levite,  who  could  "speak  well" — 


113 

with  all  the  great  and  good,  since  and  before  the 
flood! 

His  princely  tread  has  graced  these  aisles  for  the 
last  time.  These  halls  will  wake  no  more  to  the 
magic  music  of  his  voice. 

Did  that  tall  spirit,  in  its  etherial  form,  enter  the 
courts  of  the  upper  sanctuary,  bearing  itself  compa- 
rably with  the  spirits  there,  as  was  his  walk  among 
men? 

Did  the  mellifluous  tones  of  his  greeting  there 
enrapture  the  hosts  of  Heaven,  comparably  with  his 
strains  ato  stir  men's  blood"  on  earth? 

Then,  may  we  not  fancy,  when  it  was  announced 
to  the  inhabitants  of  that  better  country,  He  comes  ! 
— He  comes  ! — there  was  a  rustling  of  angel-wings — 
a  thrilling  joy — up  there,  only  to  be  witnessed  once 
in  an  earthly  age? 

Adieu ! — a  last  adieu  to  thee,  Henry  Clay  ! 

The  hearts  of  all  thy  countrymen  are  melted,  on 
this  day,  because  of  the  thought  that  thou  art  gone. 

Could  we  have  held  the  hand  of  the  "insatiate 
archer,"  thou  hadst  not  died ;  but  thou  wouldst  have 
tarried  with  us,  in  the  full  grandeur  of  thy  greatness, 
until  we  had  no  longer  need  of  a  country. 

But  we  thank  our  Heavenly  Father  that  thou 
wast  given  to  us;  and  that  thou  didst  survive  so 
long. 

We  would  cherish  thy  memory  while  we  live,  as 
our  country's   jewel — than  which   none   is  richer. 


114 

And  we  will  teach  our  children  the  lessons  of  match- 
less patriotism  thou  hast  taught  us;  with  the  fond 
hope  that  our  Liberty  and  our  Union  may  only  ex- 
pire with  "the  last  of  earth." 

Mr.  Gentry,  said: — 
Mr.  Speaker:  I  do  not  rise  to  pronounce  an  eu- 
logy on  the  life  and  character  and  public  services  of 
the  illustrious  orator  and  statesman  whose  death  this 
nation  deplores.  Suitably  to  perform  that  task,  a 
higher  eloquence  than  I  possess  might  essay  in  vain. 
The  gushing  tears  of  the  nation,  the  deep  grief 
which  oppresses  the  hearts  of  more  than  twenty  mil- 
lions of  people,  constitute  a  more  eloquent  eulogium 
upon  the  life  and  character  and  patriot  services  of 
Henry  Clay,  than  the  power  of  language  can  express. 
In  no  part  of  our  country  is  that  character  more  ad- 
mired, or  those  public  services  more  appreciated,  than 
in  the  State  which  I  have  the  honour,  in  part,  to  re- 
present. I  claim  for  the  people  of  that  State  a  full 
participation  in  the  general  woe  which  the  sad  an- 
nouncement of  to-day  will  everywhere  inspire. 

Mr.  Bowie,  said: — 
Mr.  Speaker:  I  rise  not  to  utter  the  measured 
phrases  of  premeditated  woe,  but  to  speak  as  my  con- 
stituency would,  if  they  stood  around  the  grave  now 
opening  to  receive  the  mortal  remains,  not  of  a 
statesman  only,  but  of  a  beloved  friend. 


115 

If  there  is  a  State  in.  this  Union,  other  than  Ken- 
tucky, which  sends  up  a  wail  of  more  bitter  and  sin- 
cere sorrow  than  another,  that  State  is  Maryland. 

In  her  midst,  the  departed  statesman  was  a  fre- 
quent and  a  welcome  guest.  At  many  a  board,  and 
many  a  fireside,  his  noble  form  was  the  light  of  the 
eyes,  the  idol  of  the  heart.  Throughout  her  borders, 
in  cottage,  hamlet,  and  city,  his  name  is  a  household 
word,  his  thoughts  are  familiar  sentences. 

Though  not  permitted  to  be  the  first  at  his  cradle, 
Maryland  would  be  the  last  at  his  tomb. 

Through  all  the  phases  of  political  fortune,  amid 
all  the  storms  which  darkened  his  career,  Maryland 
cherished  him  in  her  inmost  heart,  as  the  most  gifted, 
patriotic,  and  eloquent  of  men.  To  this  hour,  pray- 
ers ascend  from  many  domestic  altars,  evening  and 
morning,  for  his  temporal  comfort  and  eternal  wel- 
fare. In  the  language  of  inspiration,  Maryland  would 
exclaim,  "  There  is  a  prince  and  a  great  man,  fallen 
this  day,  in  Israel."  Daughters  of  America!  weep 
for  him  "who  hath  clothed  you  in  scarlet  and  fine 
linen." 

The  husbandman  at  his  plough,  the  artisan  at  the 
anvil,  and  the  seaman  on  the  mast,  will  pause  and 
drop  a  tear  when  he  hears  Clay  is  no  more. 

The  advocate  of  Freedom  in  both  hemispheres,  lie 
will  be  lamented  alike  on  the  shores  of  the  Helles- 
pont and  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  and  Orinoco. 
The  freed  men  of  Liberia,  learning  and  practising  the 


116 

art  of  self-government,  and  civilizing  Africa,  have 
lost  in  him  a  patron  and  protector,  a  father  and  a 
friend.  America  mourns  the  eclipse  of  a  luminary, 
which  enlightened  and  illuminated  the  continent; 
the  United  States,  a  counsellor  of  deepest  wisdom 
and  purest  purpose;  mankind,  the  advocate  of  hu- 
man rights  and  constitutional  liberty. 

Mr.  Walsh,  said: — 

Mr.  Speaker:  The  illustrious  man  whose  death 
we  this  clay  mourn,  was  so  long  my  political  leader 
— so  long  almost  the  object  of  my  personal  idolatry 
— that  I  cannot  allow  that  he  shall  go  down  to  the 
grave,  without  a  word  at  least  of  affectionate  remem- 
brancer— without  a  tribute  to  a  memory  which  will 
exact  tribute  as  long  as  a  heart  shall  be  found  to 
beat  within  the  bosom  of  civilized  man,  and  human 
agency  shall  be  adequate  in  any  farm  to  give  them 
an  expression;  and  even,  sir,  if  I  had  no  heartfelt 
sigh  to  pour  out  here — if  I  had  no  tear  for  that  cof- 
fin's lid,  I  should  do  injustice  to  those  whose  repre- 
sentative in  part  I  am,  if  I  did  not  in  this  presence, 
and  at  this  time,  raise  the  voice  to  swell  the  accents 
of  the  profoundest  public  sorrow. 

The  State  of  Maryland  has  always  vied  with  Ken- 
tucky in  love  and  adoration  of  his  name.  Her  peo- 
ple have  gathered  around  him  with  all  the  fervour 
of  a  first  affection,  and  with  more  than  its  duration. 
Troops  of  friends  have  ever  clustered  about  his  path- 


117 

way  with  a  personal  devotion  which  each  man  of 
them  regarded  as  the  highest  individual  honour — 
friends,  sir,  to  whose  firesides  the  tidings  of  his  death 
will  go  with  all  the  withering  influences  which  are 
felt  when  household  ties  are  severed. 

I  wish,  sir,  1  could  offer  now  a  proper  memorial  for 
such  a  subject  and  such  an  affection.  But  as  I  strive 
to  utter  it,  I  feel  the  disheartening  influence  of  the 
well-known  truth,  that  in  view  of  death  all  minds 
sink  into  triteness.  It  would  seem,  indeed,  sir,  that 
the  great  leveller  of  our  race  would  vindicate  his  title 
to  be  so  considered,  by  making  all  men  think  alike  in 
regard  to  his  visitation — "  the  thousand  thoughts  that 
begin  and  end  in  one" — the  desolation  here — the  eter- 
nal hope  hereafter — are  influences  felt  alike  by  the 
lowest  intellect  and  the  loftiest  genius. 

Mr.  Speaker,  a  statesman  for  more  than  fifty 
years  in  the  councils  of  his  country,  whose  peculiar 
charge  it  was  to  see  that  the  Republic  suffered  no  de- 
triment— a  patriot  for  all  times,  all  circumstances, 
and  all  emergencies — has  passed  away  from  the 
trials  and  triumphs  of  the  world,  and  gone  to  his 
reward.  Sad  as  are  the  emotions  which  such  an 
event  would  ordinarily  excite,  their  intensity  is 
heightened  by  the  matters  so  fresh  within  the 
memories  of  us  all : 

"  Oh !  think  how  to  his  latest  day, 
When  death,  just  hovering,  claim'd  his  prey, 
With  Palinurus'  unalter'd  mood, 
Firm  at  his  dangerous  post  he  stood, 


•W 


118 

Each  call  for  needful  rest  repell'd, 
With  dying  hand  the  rudder  held; 
Then  while  on  freedom's  thousand  plains 
One  unpolluted  church  remains, 
Whose  peaceful  bells  ne'er  sent  around 
The  bloody  tocsin's  maddening  sound, 
But  still,  upon  the  hallow' d  day, 
Convoke  the  swains  to  praise  and  pray, 
While  faith  and  civil  peace  are  dear, 
Greet  his  cold  marble  with  a  tear, 
He  who  preserved  them — Clay  lies  here." 

In  a  character,  Mr.  Speaker,  so  illustrious  and 
beautiful,  it  is  difficult  to  select  any  point  for  parti- 
cular notice,  from  those  which  go  to  make  up  its 
noble  proportions;  but  we  may  now,  around  his  ho- 
noured grave,  call  to  grateful  recollection  that  invin- 
cible spirit  which  no  personal  sorrow  could  sully,  and 
no  disaster  could  overcome.  Be  assured,  sir,  that  he 
has  in  this  regard  left  a  legacy  to  the  young  men  of 
the  Eepublic,  almost  as  sacred  and  as  dear  as  that 
liberty  of  which  his  life  was  a  blessed  illustration. 

We  can  all  remember,  sir,  when  adverse  political 
results  disheartened  his  friends,  and  made  them  feel 
even  as  men  without  hope,  that  his  own  clarion  voice 
was  still  heard  in  the  purpose  and  the  pursuit  of  right, 
as  bold  and  as  eloquent  as  when  it  first  proclaimed 
the  freedom  of  the  seas,  and  its  talismanic  tones 
struck  off  the  badges  of  bondage  from  the  lands  of 
the  Incas,  and  the  plains  of  Marathon. 

Mr.  Speaker,  in  the  exultation  of  the  statesman 
he  did  not  forget  the  duties  of  the  man.  He  was  an 
affectionate  adviser  on  all  points  wherein  inexpe- 


119 

rienced  youth  might  require  counsel.  He  was  a  dis- 
interested sympathizer  in  personal  sorrows  that  called 
for  consolation.  He  was  ever  upright  and  honour- 
able in  all  the  duties  incident  to  his  relations  in 
life. 

To  an  existence  so  lovely,  Heaven  in  its  mercy 
granted  a  fitting  and  appropriate  close.  It  was  the 
prayer,  Mr.  Speaker,  of  a  distinguished  citizen,  who 
died  some  years  since  in  the  metropolis,  even  while 
his  spirit  was  fluttering  for  its  final  flight,  that  he 
might  depart  gracefully.  It  may  not  be  presumptu- 
ous to  say,  that  what  was  in  that  instance  the  aspi- 
ration of  a  chivalric  gentleman,  was  in  this  the  reali- 
zation of  the  dying  Christian,  in  which  was  blended 
all  that  human  dignity  could  require,  with  all  that 
Divine  grace  had  conferred;  in  which  the  firmness 
of  the  man  was  only  transcended  by  the  fervour  of 
the  penitent. 

A  short  period  before  his  death  he  remarked  to 
one  by  his  bedside,  "  that  he  was  fearful  he  was  be- 
coming selfish,  as  his  thoughts  were  entirely  with- 
drawn from  the  world  and  centred  upon  eternity." 
This,  sir,  was  but  the  purification  of  his  noble 
spirit  from  all  the  dross  of  earth — a  happy  illustra- 
tion of  what   the   religious   muse   has   so   sweetly 


"  No  sin  to  stain — no  lure  to  stay 
The  soul,  as  home  she  springs; 
Thy  sunshine  on  her  joyful  way, 
Thy  freedom  in  her  wings." 


120 

Mr.  Speaker,  the  solemnities  of  this  hour  may  soon 
be  forgotten.  We  may  come  back  from  the  new-made 
grave  only  still  to  show  that  we  consider  "eternity 
the  bubble,  life  and  time  the  enduring  substance." 
We  may  not  pause  long  enough  by  the  brink  to  ask 
which  of  us  revellers  of  to-day  shall  next  be  at  rest. 
But  be  assured,  sir,  that  upon  the  records  of  mortality 
will  never  be  inscribed  a  name  more  illustrious  than 
that  of  the  statesman,  patriot,  and  friend  whom  the 
nation  mourns. 

The  question  was  then  put  on  the  adoption  of  the  resolu- 
tions proposed  by  Mr.  Breckinridge,  and  they  were  unani- 
mously adopted. 


121 


ORDER   OF  PROCEEDINGS   AT   THE  FUNERAL 


Hon.HENRY  CLAY, 


A    SENATOR    OF   THE    UNITED    STATES    FROM   THE    STATE    OF    KENTUCKY. 


Thursday,  July  1,  1842. 


The  Committee  of  Arrangements,  Pall-Bearers  and  Mourn- 
ers, attended  at  the  National  Hotel,  the  late  residence  of  the 
deceased,  at  11  o'clock,  a.  m.  At  half-past  eleven  the  funeral 
procession  to  the  Capitol  was  formed,  in  the  following  order : — 

The  Chaplains  of  both  Houses  of  Congress. 

Physicians  who  attended  the  deceased. 

Committee  of  Arrangements. 


Mr.  Hunter, 
Mr.  Dawson, 
Mr.  Jones,  of  Iowa, 


Mr.  Cooper, 
Mr.  Bright, 
Mr.  Smith. 


Pall-Bearers. 
Mr.  Cass,  ^  Mr.  Pratt, 

Mr.  Mangum,  g  Mr.  Atchison, 

Mr.  Dodge,  of  Wis.  o  Mr.  Bell. 


Committee  to   attend   the   remains   of  the   deceased   to 
Kentucky : — 


Mr.  Underwood, 
Mr.  Jones,  of  Tenn. 
Mr.  Cass, 


Mr.  Fish, 
Mr.  Houston, 
Mr.  Stockton. 


122 

The  Family  and  Friends  of  the  deceased. 

The  Senators  and  Representatives  from  the  State  of  Ken- 
tucky, as  mourners. 

The  Sergeant-at-Arms  of  the  Senate. 

The  Senate  of  the  United  States,  preceded  by  their  Presi- 
dent pro  tempore,  and  Secretary. 

The  other  Officers  of  the  Senate. 

The  Sergeant-at-Arms  of  the  House  of  Representatives. 

The  House  of  Representatives,  preceded  by  their  Speaker 
and  Clerk. 

The  other  Officers  of  the  House  of  Representatives. 

Judges  of  the  United  States. 

Officers  of  the  Executive  Departments. 

Officers  of  the  Army  and  Navy. 

The  Mayor  and  Corporation  of  Washington,  and  of  other 
Cities. 

Civic  Associations. 

Military  Companies. 

Citizens  and  Strangers. 

The  procession  having  entered  the  Senate  Chamber,  where 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  the  Heads  of  Depart- 
ments, the  Diplomatic  Corps,  and  others  were  already 
present,  the  funeral  service  was  performed  by  Rev.  Dr. 
Butler,  Chaplain  to  the  Senate. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  the  corpse  was  placed  in 
the  Rotunda,  where  it  remained  until  half-past  three  o'clock, 
P.  M.,  when  it  was  removed,  in  charge  of  the  Committee  of 
Arrangements  and  Pall-Bearers,  to  the  Railroad  Depot,  and 
confided  to  the  Committee  appointed  to  accompany  it  to 
Kentucky. 


%\t  Stowj  Staff  bxtifou  anir  t\t  %tmtiffl  $fffc 


A  SERMON 

DELIVERED  IN  THE  SENATE  CHAMBER  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 
JULY  1,  1852, 

OX    THE    OCCASION    OF    THE 

FUNERAL  OF  THE  HON.  HENRY  CLAY, 


REV.  C.  M.  BUTLER,  D.D. 

CHAPLAIN    OF    THE    SENATE. 


SERMON. 


How  is  the  strong  staff  broken,  and  the  beautiful  rod !" — Jer.  xlviii.  17. 


Before  all  hearts  and  minds  in  this  august  assem- 
blage the  vivid  image  of  one  man  stands.  To  some 
aged  eye  he  may  come  forth,  from  the  dim  past,  as 
he  appeared  in  the  neighbouring  city  of  his  native 
State,  a  lithe  and  ardent  youth,  full  of  promise,  of 
ambition,  and  of  hope.  To  another  he  may  appear 
as,  in  a  distant  State,  in  the  courts  of  justice,  erect, 
high-strung,  bold,  wearing  the  fresh  forensic  laurel 
on  his  young  and  open  brow.  Some  may  see  him 
in  the  earlier,  and  some  in  the  later,  stages  of  his 
career,  on  this  conspicuous  theatre  of  his  renown  ; 
and  to  the  former  he  will  start  out  on  the  back- 
ground of  the  past,  as  he  appeared  in  the  neighbour- 
ing chamber,  tall,  elate,  impassioned — with  flashing 
eye,  and  suasive  gesture,  and  clarion  voice,  an  al- 
ready acknowledged  "  Agamemnon,  King  of  Men ;" 
and  to  others  he  will  again  stand  in  this  chamber, 
"the  strong  staff"  of  the  bewildered  and  staggering 
State,  and  "  the  beautiful  rod,"  rich  with  the  blos- 
soms of  genius,  and  of  patriotic  love  and  hope,  the 
life  of  youth  still  remaining  to  give  animation,  grace, 
and  exhaustless  vigour,  to  the  wisdom,  the  experience, 

125 


126 

and  the  gravity  of  age.  To  others  he  may  be  pre- 
sent as  he  sat  in  the  chamber  of  sickness,  cheerful, 
majestic,  gentle — his  mind  clear,  his  heart  warm, 
his  hope  fixed  on  Heaven,  peacefully  preparing  for 
his  last  great  change.  To  the  memory  of  the  mi- 
nister of  God  he  appears  as  the  penitent,  humble,  and 
peaceful  Christian,  who  received  him  with  the  affec- 
tion of  a  father,  and  joined  with  him  in  solemn 
sacrament  and  prayer,  with  the  gentleness  of  a  wo- 
man, and  the  humility  of  a  child.  "Out  of  the 
strong  came  forth  sweetness."  "  How  is  the  strong 
staff  broken,  and  the  beautiful  rod !" 

But  not  before  this  Assembly  only,  does  the  ven- 
erated image  of  the  departed  Statesman,  this  day, 
distinctly  stand.  For  more  than  a  thousand  miles — 
east,  west,  north,  and  south — it  is  known  and  re- 
membered, that  at  this  place  and  hour,  a  nation's 
Representatives  assemble  to  do  honour  to  him  whose 
fame  is  now  a  nations  heritage.  A  nation's  mighty 
heart  throbs  against  this  Capitol,  and  beats  through 
you.  In  many  cities  banners  droop,  bells  toll,  can- 
nons boom,  funereal  draperies  wave.  In  crowded 
streets  and  on  sounding  wharfs,  upon  steamboats  and 
upon  cars,  in  fields  and  in  workshops,  in  homes,  in 
schools,  millions  of  men,  women,  and  children  have 
their  thoughts  fixed  upon  this  scene,  and  say  mourn- 
fully to  each  other,  "This  is  the  hour  in  which, 
at   the    Capitol,   the    nation's    Representatives   are 


127 

burying  Henry  Clay."  Burying  Henry  Clay! 
Bury  the  records  of  your  country's  history — bury 
the  hearts  of  living  millions — bury  the  mountains, 
the  rivers,  the  lakes,  and  the  spreading  lands  from 
sea  to  sea,  with  which  his  name  is  inseparably  asso- 
ciated, and  even  then  you  would  not  bury  Henry 
Clay — for  he  lives  in  other  lands,  and  speaks  in 
other  tongues,  and  to  other  times  than  ours. 

A  great  mind,  a  great  heart,  a  great  orator,  a  great 
career,  have  been  consigned  to  history.  She  will  re- 
cord his  rare  gifts  of  deep  insight,  keen  discrimina- 
tion, clear  statement,  rapid  combination,  plain,  di- 
rect, and  convincing  logic.  She  will  love  to  dwell 
on  that  large,  generous,  magnanimous,  open,  forgiv- 
ing heart.  She  will  linger,  with  fond  delight,  on  the 
recorded  and  traditional  stories  of  an  eloquence  that 
was  so  masterful  and  stirring,  because  it  was  but 
himself,  struggling  to  come  forth  on  the  living  words 
— because,  though  the  words  were  brave  and  strong, 
and  beautiful  and  melodious,  it  was  felt  that,  behind 
them  there  was  a  soul  braver,  stronger,  more  beauti- 
ful, and  more  melodious,  than  language  could  ex- 
press. She  will  point  to  a  career  of  statesmanship 
which  has,  to  a  remarkable  degree,  stamped  itself 
on  the  public  policy  of  the  country,  and  reached,  in 
beneficent  practical  results,  the  fields,  the  looms,  the 
commercial  marts,  and  the  quiet  homes  of  all  the 
land,  where  his  name  was,  with  the  departed  fathers, 


128 

and  is  with  the  living  children,  and  will  be,  with  suc- 
cessive generations,  an  honoured  household  word. 

I  feel,  as  a  man,  the  grandeur  of  this  career.  But 
as  an  immortal,  with  this  broken  wreck  of  mor- 
tality, before  me,  with  this  scene  as  the  "end-all"  of 
human  glory,  I  feel  that  no  career  is  truly  great  but 
that  of  him  who,  whether  he  be  illustrious  or  ob- 
scure, lives  to  the  future  in  the  present,  and  linking 
himself  to  the  spiritual  world,  draws  from  God  the 
life,  the  rule,  the  motive,  and  the  reward  of  all  his 
labour.  So  would  that  great  spirit  which  has  de- 
parted say  to  us,  could  he  address  us  now.  So  did 
he  realize,  in  the  calm  and  meditative  close  of  life. 
I  feel  that  I  but  utter  the  lessons  which,  living,  were 
his  last  and  best  convictions,  and  which,  dead,  would 
be,  could  he  speak  to  us,  his  solemn  admonitions, 
when  I  say  that  statesmanship  is  then  only  glorious, 
when  it  is  Christian:  and  that  man  is  then  only 
safe,  and  true  to  his  duty,  and  his  soul,  when  the 
life  which  he  lives  in  the  flesh  is  the  life  of  faith  in 
the  Son  of  God. 

Great,  indeed,  is  the  privilege,  and  most  honoura- 
ble and  useful  is  the  career,  of  a  Christian  Ameri- 
can statesman.  He  perceives  that  civil  liberty  came 
from  the  freedom  wherewith  Christ  made  its  early 
martyrs  and  defenders  free.  He  recognises  it  as  one 
of  the  twelve  manner  of  fruits  on  the  Tree  of  Life, 
which,  while  its  lower  branches  furnish  the  best  nu- 


i 


129 

triment  of  earth,  hangs  on  its  topmost  boughs,  which 
wave  in  Heaven,  fruits  that  exhilarate  the  immortals. 
Recognising  the  State  as  God's  institution,  he  will 
perceive  that  his  own  ministry  is  divine.  Living 
consciously  under  the  eye,  and  in  the  love  and  fear 
of  God ;  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  Jesus ;  sanctified 
by  His  Spirit ;  loving  His  law ;  he  will  give  himself, 
in  private  and  in  public,  to  the  service  of  his  Sa- 
viour. He  will  not  admit  that  he  may  act  on  less 
lofty  principles  in  public,  than  in  private  life;  and 
that  he  must  be  careful  of  his  moral  influence  in  the 
small  sphere  of  home  and  neighbourhood,  but  need 
take  no  heed  of  it  when  it  stretches  over  continents 
and  crosses  seas.  He  will  know  that  his  moral  re- 
sponsibility cannot  be  divided  and  distributed  among 
others.  When  he  is  told  that  adherence  to  the 
strictest  moral  and  religious  principle  is  incompa- 
tible with  a  successful  and  eminent  career,  he  will 
denounce  the  assertion  as  a  libel  on  the  venerated 
Fathers  of  the  Eepublic — a  libel  on  the  honoured  liv- 
ing and  the  illustrious  dead — a  libel  against  a  great 
and  Christian  nation — a  libel  against  God  himself,  who 
has  declared  and  made  "godliness  profitable  for  the 
life  that  now  is."  He  will  strive  to  make  laws  the 
transcripts  of  the  character,  and  institutions  illustra- 
tions of  the  providence  of  God.  He  will  scan  with 
admiration  and  awe  the  purposes  of  God  in  the  fu- 
ture history  of  the  world,  in  throwing  open  this  wide 


130 

Continent,  from  sea  to  sea,  as  the  abode  of  freedom, 
intelligence,  plenty,  prosperity,  and  peace ;  and  feel 
that  in  giving  his  energies  with  a  patriot's  love,  to 
the  welfare  of  his  country,  he  is  consecrating  him- 
self, with  a  Christian's  zeal,  to  the  extension  and 
establishment  of  the  Kedeemer's  kingdom.  Com- 
pared with  a  career  like  this,  which  is  equally  open 
to  those  whose  public  sphere  is  large  or  small,  how 
paltry  are  the  trade  of  patriotism,  the  tricks  of 
statesmanship,  the  rewards  of  successful  baseness! 
This  hour,  this  scene,  the  venerated  dead,  the  coun- 
try, the  world,  the  present,  the  future,  God,  duty, 
Heaven,  hell,  speak  trumpet-tongued  to  all  in  the 
service  of  their  country,  to  beicare  how  they  lay  pol- 
luted or  unhallowed  hands 


"Upon  the  ark 
Of  her  magnificent  and  awful  cause  !" 


Such  is  the  character  of  that  statesmanship  which 
alone  would  have  met  the  full  approval  of  the  vene- 
rated dead.  For  the  religion  which  always  had  a 
place  in  the  convictions  of  his  mind,  had  also,  within 
a  recent  period,  entered  into  his  experience,  and 
seated  itself  in  his  heart.  Twenty  years  since  he 
wrote — "  I  am  a  member  of  no  religious  sect,  and  I 
am  not  a  professor  of  religion.  I  regret  that  I  am 
not.  I  wish  that  I  was,  and  trust  that  I  shall  be.  I 
have,  and  always  have  had,  a  profound  regard  for 


131 

Christianity,  the  religion  of  my  fathers,  and  for  its 
rites,  its  usages,  and  observances."  That  feeling 
proved  that  the  seed  sown  by  pious  parents,  was  not 
dead  though  stifled.  A  few  years  since,  its  dormant 
life  was  re-awakened.  He  was  baptized  in  the  com- 
munion of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church;  and 
during  his  sojourn  in  this  city,  he  was  in  full  com- 
munion with  Trinity  Parish. 

It  is  since  his  withdrawal  from  the  sittings  of  the 
Senate,  that  I  have  been  made  particularly  ac- 
quainted with  his  religious  opinions,  character,  and 
feelings.  From  the  commencement  of  his  illness  he 
always  expressed  to  me  his  persuasion  that  its  ter- 
mination would  be  fatal.  From  that  period  until  his 
death,  it  was  my  privilege  to  hold  frequent  religious 
services  and  conversations  with  him  in  his  room.  He 
avowed  to  me  his  full  faith  in  the  great  leading  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel — the  fall  and  sinfulness  of  man, 
the  divinity  of  Christ,  the  reality  and  necessity  of 
the  Atonement,  the  need  of  being  born  again  by  the 
Spirit,  and  salvation  through  faith  in  a  crucified  Re- 
deemer. His  own  personal  hopes  of  salvation,  he 
ever  and  distinctly  based  on  the  promises  and  the 
grace  of  Christ.  Strikingly  perceptible,  on  his  na- 
turally impetuous  and  impatient  character,  was  the 
influence  of  grace  in  producing  submission,  and  "  a 
patient  waiting  for  Christ,"  and  for  death.  On  one 
occasion  he  spoke  to  me  of  the  pious  example  of  one 


132 

very  near  and  dear  to  him,  as  that  which  led  him 
deeply  to  feel,  and  earnestly  to  seek  for  himself,  the 
reality  and  the  blessedness  of  religion.  On  another 
occasion,  he  told  me  that  he  had  been  striving  to 
form  a  conception  of  Heaven;  and  he  enlarged  upon 
the  mercy  of  that  provision  by  which  our  Saviour 
became  a  partaker  of  our  humanity,  that  our  hearts 
and  hopes  might  fix  themselves  on  him.  On  another 
occasion,  when  he  was  supposed  to  be  very  near  his 
end,  I  expressed  to  him  the  hope  that  his  mind  and 
heart  were  at  peace,  and  that  he  was  able  to  rest 
with  cheerful  confidence  on  the  promises,  and  in  the 
merits  of  the  Redeemer.  He  said,  with  much  feel- 
ing, that  he  endeavoured  to,  and  trusted  that  he  did 
repose  his  salvation  upon  Christ;  that  it  was  too 
late  for  him  to  look  at  Christianity  in  the  light  of 
speculation ;  that  he  had  never  doubted  of  its  truth ; 
and  that  he  now  wished  to  throw  himself  upon  it 
as  a  practical  and  blessed  remedy.  Very  soon  after 
this,  I  administered  to  him  the  sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper.  Being  extremely  feeble,  and  desirous 
of  having  his  mind  undiverted,  no  persons  were 
present,  but  his  son  and  his  servant.  It  was  a  scene 
long  to  be  remembered.  There,  in  that  still  cham- 
ber, at  a  week-day  noon,  the  tides  of  life  flowing  all 
around  us,  three  disciples  of  the  Saviour,  the  minis- 
ter of  God,  the  dying  statesman,  and  his  servant, 
a  partaker  of  the  like  precious  faith,  commemorated 


■# 


133 

their  Saviour's  dying  love.  He  joined  in  the  blessed 
sacrament  with  great  feeling  and  solemnity,  now 
pressing  his  hands  together,  and  now  spreading  them 
forth,  as  the  words  of  the  service  expressed  the  feel- 
ings, desires,  supplications,  confessions,  and  thanks- 
givings, of  his  heart.  His  eyes  were  dim  with  grate- 
ful tears,  his  heart  was  full  of  peace  and  love  !  Af- 
ter this  he  rallied,  and  again  I  was  permitted  fre- 
quently to  join  with  him  in  religious  services,  con- 
versation, and  prayer.  He  grew  in  grace  and  in 
the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ.  Among  the  books  which,  in  connection  with 
the  Word  of  God,  he  read  most,  were  "  Jay's  Morn- 
ing and  Evening  Exercises,"  the  "  Life  of  Dr.  Chal- 
mers," and  "  The  Christian  Philosopher  Triumphant 
in  Death."  His  hope  continued  to  the  end  to  be, 
though  true  and  real,  tremulous  with  humility  rather 
than  rapturous  with  assurance.  When  he  felt  most 
the  weariness  of  his  protracted  sufferings,  it  sufficed 
to  suggest  to  him  that  his  Heavenly  Father  doubt- 
less knew,  that  after  a  life  so  long  and  stirring,  and 
tempted,  such  a  discipline  of  chastening  and  suffer- 
ing was  needful  to  make  him  more  meet  for  the  in- 
heritance of  the  saints — and  at  once  words  of  meek 
and  patient  acquiescence  escaped  his  lips. 

Exhausted  nature  at  length  gave  way.  On  the 
last  occasion,  when  I  was  permitted  to  offer  a  brief 
prayer  at  his  bedside,  his  last  words  to  me  were  that 


.1 


134 

he  had  hope  only  in  Christ,  and  that  the  prayer 
which  I  had  offered  for  his  pardoning  love,  and  his 
sanctifying  grace,  included  every  thing  which  the  dy- 
ing need.  On  the  evening  previous  to  his  departure, 
sitting  for  an  hour  in  silence  by  his  side,  I  could  not 
but  realize,  when  I  heard  him,  in  the  slight  wander- 
ings of  his  mind  to  other  days,  and  other  scenes, 
murmuring  the  words,  "My  mother!  Motlier !  Mo- 
ther!" and  saying  "My  dear  ivife!"  as  if  she  were 
present,  and  frequently  uttering  aloud,  as  if  in  re- 
sponse to  some  silent  Litany  of  the  soul,  the  simple 
prayer,  "  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me !" — I  could  not 
but  realize  then,  and  rejoice  to  think  how  near  was 
the  blessed  reunion  of  his  weary  heart  with  the 
loved  dead,  and  with  her  — Our  dear  Lord  gently 
smooth  her  passage  to  the  tomb ! — who  must  soon  fol- 
low him  to  his  rest — whose  spirits  even  then  seemed 
to  visit,  and  to  cheer  his  memory  and  his  hope. 
Gently  he  breathed  his  soul  away  into  the  spirit 
world. 


How  blest  the  righteous  when  they  die  ! 

When  holy  souls  retire  to  rest, 
How  mildly  beams  the  closing  eye, 

How  gently  heaves  the  expiring  breast ! 


So  fades  the  summer  cloud  away, 

So  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  are  o'er, 

So  gently  shuts  the  eye  of  day, 
So  dies  the  wave  upon  the  shore  !" 


135 

Be  it  ours  to  follow  him,  in  the  same  humble  and 
submissive  faith,  to  Heaven.  Could  he  speak  to  us 
the  counsels  of  his  latest  human,  and  his  present 
Heavenly,  experience,  sure  I  am  that  he  would  not 
only  admonish  us  to  cling  to  the  Saviour,  in  sickness 
and  in  death :  but  abjure  us  not  to  delay  to  act  upon 
our  first  convictions,  that  we  might  give  our  best 
powers  and  fullest  influence  to  God,  and  go  to  the 
grave  with  a  hope,  unshadowed  by  the  long  worldli- 
ness  of  the  past,  or  by  the  films  of  fear  and  doubt 
resting  over  the  future. 

The  strong  staff  is  broken,  and  the  beautiful  rod 
is  despoiled  of  its  grace  and  bloom  ;  but  in  the  light 
of  the  eternal  promises,  and  by  the  power  of 
Christ's  resurrection,  we  joyfully  anticipate  the  pros- 
pect of  seeing  that  broken  staff  erect,  and  that 
beautiful  rod  clothed  with  celestial  grace,  and  blos- 
soming with  undying  life  and  blessedness  in  the 
Paradise  of  God. 


THE    END. 


^,  on  THE  LAST  DATE 
THIS  BOOK  aggsSW* 

-T^Z  0]?  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ^S!fSSTEHE  DATE  DUE. JHE^ *>  H 

DAY    AND    TO    *   •  ___===== 

OVERDUE. 


7 '40 (6936s) 


£340 


'6 

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